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HKV.I.    I'.    AVFltY,    ST\TK    1MMNII   II. 


WOODBURN 


KOSA  VERTNER  JEFFREY, 

AUTHOR  OP '"POEMS  BY  ROSA." 


NEW    YORK: 
SHELDON   &   COMPANY,   PUBLISHERS, 

335  BROADWAY,  COR.  WORTH  STREET. 
1864. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

SHELDON   <fc   COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


Stereotyped  by  Printed  by 

SMITH   <fc   MoDotroAL,  8.  0.  WESOOTT  &   Co. 

82  <fe  84  Beekman  St  79  John  Street. 


J 


a 


S/e 


"83S70S 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — OUR  FAMILY  AT  WOODBURN 7 

II. — MY  SISTER  ETHEL ' 19 

III. — MR.  CLIFFORD 28 

IV. — OUR  SCHOOL-ROOM.  '. 39 

V. — THE  PEARL  OF  ELGIN 47 

VI. — DOCTOR  FOSTER. 56 

VII.— RACHEL  THORN 71 

VIII. — MR.  CLIFFORD  PERPLEXED 83 

IX. — THE  PARSONAGE,  AND  CECIL  CLARE 94 

X. — OUR  RIDE  HOME,  AND  WHAT  CAME  OF  IT 102 

XI.— A  TIME  OF  TRIAL 110 

XII. — PEARL'S  SECRET 1 120 

XIII. — THE  MANIAC 126 

XIV. — SOME  LEAVES  FROM  PEARL'S  DIARY 138 

XV. — PEARL'S  DIARY  CONTINUED 152 

XVI. — RACHEL  THORN'S  BANISHMENT 162 

XVII. — WHAT  ARCHEY  SAW  IN  THE  WOODS 173 

XVIII. — THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE 179 

XIX. — MR.  CLIFFORD'S  STORY 188 

XX. — THE  RESCUE 195 

XXL — WHERE  OLIVIA  LACY  FOUND  THE  STILETTO 215 

XXII. — MR.  CLIFFORD'S  REWARD 222 

XXIII. — RELATING  TO  SEVERAL  THINGS..,  .  232 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIV. — THE  STORM,  AND  RACHEL'S  WARNING  LETTER. 243 

XXV. — THE  ROOM  WITH  PRISON  "WINDOWS 254 

XXVL— FOREBODINGS 262 

XXVIL— THE  WEDDING 271 

XXVIII.—"  DOCTOR  FOSTER'S  CRAZY  BROTHER," ' 280 

XXIX.— A  DARK  CLOUD 290 

XXX.— THE  LIGHT  BREAKS 299 

XXXI. — A  BLIGHTED  MAT-FLOWER 307 

XXXII. — How  THE  PEARL   OF  ELGIN  SHONE  IN  AN  AUTUMN 

SUNSET 313 

XXXIII. — THE  PEDDLER 320 

XXXIV. — AN  UNEXPECTED  MEETING 332 

XXXV. — AGAIN  AT  WOODBURN 344 

XXXVI.— CONCLUSION.  .         .353 


CHAPTER    I . 

. 

OUR     FAMILY    AT    WOODBURN. 

Shadows  are  drifting  over  Memory's  sky, 
Sorrows  attend  upon  the  joys  gone  by ! 
Yet  one  fair  picture  glows  in  cloudless  light, 
My  childhood's  home,  warm,  beautiful  and  bright. 

"  WELL  !  the  new  teacher  will  be  here  to-morrow,"  said 
my  father — putting  a  letter  into  his  pocket  with  one  hand, 
while  with  the  other  he  caught  hold  of  my  tangled  curls — 
"and  then,  Miss  Mad-cap,  I  fancy  you  will  have  some 
occupation  besides  fastening  night-caps  on  old  Towser,  and 
tying  strings  and  feathers  to  poor  pussy's-  tail, — to  say 
nothing  of  crowning  your  reverend  father  with  labur 
nums" — and  he  touched  gayly,  I  might  say  gallantly,  the 
chaplet  of  golden  spring  flowers  I  had  just  fastened  above 
his  brow,  over  great  masses  of  fine,  wavy  white  hair — 
which,  blown  about  by  the  mild  Spring  air,  looked  like 
spun  glass — thinking  how  grand  and  royal  he  looked.  My 
dear,  noble  father !  And  how  much  more  deserving  he 
was  the  title  of  king  or  emperor  than  the  many  wicked 
monarchs  in  history ;  and  then  his  perfections  were  mar 
shalled,  in  bright  array,  against  legions  of  horrors  com- 


8  WOODBURN. 

mitted  by  defunct  royalty — my  hasty  list  beginning  with 
Caligula  and  Nero,  and  ending  with  Harry  the  Eighth — 
when,  he  interrupted  my  soliloquy  as  above,  and  turning  to 
my  brother,  continued.  And  you,  Master  Ralph,  must  go 
back  to  Latin  and  Greek,  instead  of  riding  races  with  that 
wild  gypsy,  Pearl  Dunbar;  for  Zebra  had  the  thumps 
when  you  returned  from  that  scamper  to  the  cliffs  last 
night — and  as  to  Ethel's  beautiful  Arabian,  Fleet-foot,  I 
only  wonder  she  is  alive,  after  your  late  hard  usage  of 
her.  But  all  that  is  over  now,  for  -awhile.  The  saints  be 
praised  !  And  we — viz.: — dogs,  cats,  horses  and  self,  will 
have  some  rest." 

"  What,  father  !  said  Ralph,  laughing, — you  don't  mean 
to  say  that  all  the  fun  is  up,  when  your  old  English  dominie 
arrives, — are  we  to  have  no  rides,  no  races,  no  walks,  no 
anything  like  frolic,  between  school-hours  ?  Are  we  all  to 
sit  up,  and  twist  our  thumbs,  and  look  as  demure  as  Miss 
Tabitha  Tipps,  when  presiding  over  one  of  those  solemn 
conclaves,  (styled  by  out-siders)  "a  spinsters'  tea-fight"? 
Saying  which,  the  handsome  scamp  drew  down  his 
mouth,  twisted  his  thumbs,  and  looked  as  much  like  an 
antiquated  spinster  as  such  a  radiant  young  face  could  be 
made  to  look. 

"  "What  do  you  say  to  suck  solemn  proceedings,  Miss 
Amy,"  he  continued,  glancing  up  at  me.  "Would  it  be 
within  the  range  of  possible  events,  for  you  to  become  such 
a  pink  of  maidenly  propriety  as  Miss  Tabitha  Tipps?" 


OUR  FAMILY  AT  WOODBURN.  9 

"  Very  well,"  said  my  father,  "  laugh  away  while  you 
can,  enjoy  your  freedom  to-day,  you  saucy  rogues — for 
when  Mr.  Clifford  arrives,  there  will  be  no  time  to  give  us 
snatches  of  burlesque  acting  from  the  private  life  of  Miss 
Tipps,  a  most  respectable  person  by  the  way,  for  then 
books — books — study— hard  study  will  be  the  programme. 
A  rather  more  difficult  one,  too,  I  imagine,  than  has  lately 
been  submitted  for  your  consideration/' 

"Mr.  Clifford!"  I  exclaimed,  "what  a  pretty  name!  I 
was  certain  it  would  be  Jones,  or  Jenkins,  or  Fitz-boodle, 
or  some  such  horrid  thing ;  but  Mr.  Clifford,  sounds  so 
soft  and  genteel,  perhaps  we  shall  like  him  after  all,  and 
at  all  events  there's  some  consolation  in  having  a  tutor  in 
place  of  a  governess,  ugh !  I  can  see  old  Mrs.  Blake 
now,  looking  (or  rather  pretending  to  look)  as  if  petrified 
with  horror,  by  the  shock  of  an  earthquake,  or  some  other 
convulsion  of  nature — because  of  a  blot  on  my  composi 
tion  ;  and  then,  I'd  rather  hear  a  cannon  go  off  suddenly 
at  any  time,  tljan  be  electrified  by  the  shrill,  sharp  voice 
in  which  she  used  to  snap  out  '  for  shame,  young  ladies' 
— because  Pearl,  and  myself  stuffed  our  handkerchiefs  in 
our  mouths,  to  keep  from  laughing  out  at  Ralph's  fiendish 
faces,  when  we  could  see  him,  and  she  could'nt.  I  detest 
a  governess,  at  least  if  she  is  a  type  of  the  class — and  am 
sure  we  shall  like  Mr.  Clifford  better." 

"Like  him,  indeed!"  shouted  Ralph,  "hoity-toity, 
Miss  Sentiment,  so  you  fancy  the  owner  of  a  pretty  name 


10  WOODBURN. 

must  needs  be  a  pretty  man  too ;  a  dapper  little  gentle 
man,  forsooth,  with  smooth  face,  sleek  hair,  pink  cheeks, 
and  polite  as  a  French  dancing  master;  don't  console  your 
little  ladyship  in  that  way,  for  I  am  quite  sure,  in  spite 
of  his  fine  sounding  name,  that  this  John  Bull  dominie 
is  a  perfect  fright,  and  as  cross  as  an  old  bear.  Mrs. 
Blake's  reign,  will  be  looked  back  upon  as  the  golden  age 
of  our  school-room,  in  spite  of  her  snapping  voice,  freezing 
white  eyes,  and  thundering  frown,  when  Clifford  the  First, 
takes  his  seat  upon  her  vacant  throne, — and  when  he  de 
parts  this  life,  should  we  be  duly  informed  of  that  melan 
choly  event,  I  venture  to  say  his  ci-devant  scholars  here 
abouts,  will  never  worship  him  as  their  tutelary  saint ;  hear 
me  describe  this  gentleman : — Short  and  thick,  bald  as  a 
bat, — except  a  circle  of  grisly  hair  round  the  back  of  his 
head,  which  will  stand  up  like  porcupine  quills — especially 
when  he  is  angry ;«  little  round  green  eyes,  big  nose,  par 
ticularly  fat  towards  the  end,  and  the  color  of  a  red  cab 
bage,  frost-bitten  at  that, — English  whiskers,  wiry  as  hog 
bristles,  and  the  biggest,  ugliest  mouth  you  ever  saw,  full 
of  black  tusks,  '  to  eat  you  up  with  the  better,  my  dear,' 
and  he  made  a  spring  towards  me,  so  sudden,  that  I  cried 
out — for  his  description  had  wrought  me  up  to  quite  a 
pitch  of  nervous  excitement,  and  my  sister  Ethel,  said, — 

"  For  shame,  Ralph!  why  do  you  try  to  frighten  poor 
A.my  into  believing  her  new  teacher  is  a  regular  ogre?" 

"He  cannot  frighten  me,  sis,  with  such  nonsense,"  I 


OUR   FAMILY   AT   WOODBURN.  11 

answered, — rather  upon  my  dignity,  being  past  fifteen  and 
fancying  myself  a  woman — "  for  in  the  first  place  I  am  not 
quite  baby  enough  to  like  '  dapper  little  men,,'  and  don't 
imagine  Mr.  Clifford  as  either  pretty  or  small ;  and  in  the 
second,  I  don't  believe  such  ogres  as  he  has  depicted  are 
very  common.  My  idea  of  our  new  tutor  is — a  long,  dang 
ling  man,  who  has  false  teeth  and  wears  a  wig  and  specta 
cles  !  What  do  you  think,  sis  ?"  and  I  knelt  before 
Ethel,  resting  my  head  on  her  lap. 

And  here  let  me  sketch  a  word  picture  of  the  radiant 
woman,  who  had  been  more  than  sister,  and  even  as  the 
best  of  mothers  to  me,  from  an  early  period  of  motherless 
infancy.  I  hate  regular  descriptions  of  heroines — beauties 
especially — yet  in  spite  of  this,  cannot  resist  the  tempta 
tion  of  inflicting  upon  my  readers  (perhaps  selfishly)  the 
perusal  of  what  might  be  a  task  to  write,  were  the  subject 
less  dear. 

Ethel  Linton  was  the  most  superb  beauty  I  ever  saw. 
At  that  time  past  the  bloom  of  early  youth,  being  twenty- 
five,  yet  her  loveliness  had  ripened, — matured, — losing  not 
freshness,  yet  gaining  depth  and  tenderness  of  expression, 
in  its  growth  to  full  perfection.  She  was  tall,  and  ele 
gantly  formed, — a  wavy,  graceful  figure,  yet  so  round,  there 
were  no  harsh  angles  there  to  mar  its  stately  symmetry; 
fair,  very  fair,  with  large,  lustrous  hazel  eyes,  into  whose 
clear  depths  you  might  gaze  long  and  earnestly,  and  while 
gazing,  feel  as  well  assured  that  the  soul  within  was  a 


12  WOODBURN. 

temple  of  purity  and  truth  :  as  in  watching  the  stars,  we 
know  those  blue  steeps  which  they  adorn  are  boundary 
lines  to  a. world  of  angels.  The  features  were  regular, 
yet  not  with  the  severe  perfection  of  a  Grecian  statue. 
And  it  was  the  ever-changing  lights,  and  shades  of  ex 
pression  that  constituted  Ethel's  chief  attraction ;  the  glow, 
the  beam  of  intellect,  the  bewitching  smiles,  or  laugh  of 
gayety, — at  times  almost  childish  in  its  ringing  merriment, 
and  then,  a  shadow  of  mournfulness  flitting  over  her  face, 
eclipsing  its  light,  like  wreaths  of  purple  vapor,  that  some 
times  start  suddenly  across  the  glory  of  a  summer  sky, 
breaking  into  shimmering  gleams  the  glow  of  sunshine  on 
some  enchanting  landscape;  yet  shading  it  so  softly,  so 
dreamily,  that  we  know  not  which  to  deem  most  lovely ; 
the  living  picture  bathed  in  light,  or  shadowed  by  its 
veil  of  purple  cloud.  My  sister's  hair  was  her  crowning 
beauty.  Golden  brown,  silky  and  abundant,  it  rippled  in 
shining  waves  over  her  white  brow,  and  braided  into  a 
mass  at  the  back  of  her  regal  head,  shone  like  a  halo, — 
illuminating  her  whole  form. 

There  were  five  of  us  grouped  together,  on  that  balmy 
May  evening,  on  the  gallery  of  our  luxurious  southern 
home.  It -was  a  fine  old  country-house,  built  in  my 
grandfather's  time,  with  high  ceilings,  wide  hall  and  stair 
case,  large  conservatories,  etc., — in  fact,  all  the  comforts, 
and  elegancies,  that  fine  taste  could  suggest,  or  wealth 
purchase.  The  house  stood  on  a  high,  double  terrace,  with 


OUR   FAMILY    AT   WOODBURN.  13 

sodded  steps,  leading  down  to  a  wide  gravel  carriage-path, 
winding  gracefully  to  the  front  gate  through  a  grove  of  live 
oaks.  To  the  right  of  the  house — approaching  it — and 
running  far  back,  was  the  garden,  hedged  with  myrtle, 
and  cape-jasmines,  terraced  also,  deep,  wide  terraces,  made 
long  ago,  with  borders  of  box  so  tall  and  wide,  that  they 
imparted  to  the  beds  that  venerable  look  which  great 
staunch  trees  impart  to  a  forest ;  how  I  doted  on  these 
closely  clipped  box  borders, — so  thick,  and  smooth,  and 
flat  on  top,  that  as  a  child  I  had  often  spread  them  for  a 
fairy  banquet,  with  acorn-cups  and  the  scarlet  bell-shaped 
caps  of  the  pomegranate  blossoms. 

Oh,  that  fragrant,  grand  old  garden  !  how  I  delighted 
to  revel  in  its  cool  depths  of  shade,  and  ever  since  those 
halcyon  days  of  happy  innocence,  the  fresh  aromatic  odors 
of  box  has  had  a  peculiar  charm  for  me  no  matter  where, 
or  in  what  clime,  whether  springing  up  from  some  humble 
flower  plot,  on  the  murky  out-skirts  of  a  city,  or  stealing 
to  me  in  the  dusty  crowded  street,  upon  a  sweet  cool 
breath  of  country  air, — it  comes  as  a  waif  of  that  beloved 
spot,  and  by  some  subtle  spell  of  memory  makes  the  pres 
ent  vanish,  and  again  I  seem  a  child  among  those  fragrant 
borders,  in  the  garden  at  Woodburn.  There  was  a  mossy 
rustic  temple  too,  built  of  gnarled  vines  and  roots,  and  tapes 
tried  with  festoons  of  white  and  yellow  jasmines ;  which  I 
selected  as  a  favorite  retreat,  and  when  worried  with  my 
lessons,  or  stupid  in  writing  my  composition,  to  the  sum- 


14  WOODBURN. 

mer-house  would  I  fly — for  the  balmy,  inexpressibly  sweet 
atmosphere  of  that  retired  spot,  where  the  fragrance  of  an 
infinite  variety  of  flowers,  from  the  royal  magnolia  to  the 
modest  sweet  violet — each  season  presenting  its  own  perfect 
bouquet  of  odors — never  failed  to  soothe,  cheer,  and  encour 
age  me,  and  the  memory  pf  those  hours,  when  weary  and 
heated  I  rushed  from  the  school-room  and  hid  myself  there 
to  rest — or  at  twilight,  when  that  strange  hum  of  insect 
life  which  thrills  the  southern  air  as  night  steals  on,  mak 
ing  all  space  around  seem  haunted  with  mysterious  sounds, 
would  lure  me  there  to  dream  of  nature's  mysteries,  as 
children  with  such  temperaments  as  mine  are  wont  to 
dream — the  stars, — the  calm  blue  depths  of  sky, — the  very 
home  of  God, — wonders  to  the  wise  men  of  earth, — it  is 
scarcely  strange  they  should  fascinate  the  minds  of  think 
ing  children,  with  their  endless  and  inexplicable  marvels  ! 
And  then  the  dewy,  moon-lit  nights  in  that  garden,  be 
neath  that  bower,  alone,  or  with  my  cousin  Victor — or  a 
whole  merry  party  trooping  through  the  walks,  singing — 
laughing — happy,  these  times,  these  scenes,  stand  out  as 
the  bright,  never  changing  pictures  of  memory,  the  fairest, 
dearest  treasures  of  her  store. 

But  in  the  mazes  of  the  garden  I  am  losing  sight  of  our 
family  circle,  and  must  now  return  to  them.  To  my  sister 
Ethel  you  have  been  introduced — at  least  to  her  person 
nel — and  as  the  next  chapter  will  be  devoted  to  a  sketch 


OUR   FAMILY   AT   WOODBURN.  15 

of  her  early  history,  I  will  pass  on  to  some  of  the  other 
actors  in  this  little  life  drama. 

My  father,  whose  name  was  Edward  Percy,  at  the 
time  my  story  begins  might  have  been  sixty,  or  a  little 
past — florid,  with  the  thickest  suit  of  grey  hair  I  ever  saw, 
or  rather  white,  for  not  a  dark  strand  marred  its  silvery 
beauty.  Of  medium  height,  his  face  wore  an  expression  of 
intelligence  and  firmness,  yet  mingled  with  a  look  of  almost 
feminine  tenderness,  so  winning,  that  his  children  and  ser 
vants  never  feared,  while  they  so  fully  respected  him,  and 
as  father,  master,  friend,  there  never  was  a  man  more  truly 
and  perfectly  revered  and  beloved. 

My  brother  Ralph  was  handsome,  talented,  impetuous, 
and  just  eighteen. 

Being  a  narrator  of,  rather  than  a  conspicuous  actor  in 
the  strange  events  I  am  about  to  relate,  my  appearance  is 
of  very  little  importance,  and  therefore  let  me  pass  on  to 
the  fifth  party  in  this  group — Rachel  Thorn.  An  orphan 
niece  of  my  father's,  poor,  and  without  a  home,  he  had  in 
vited  her  to  Woodburn  just  after  Ethel's  marriage,  and 
with  his  usual  noble  delicacy  of  feelings,  lest  she  might 
shrink  from  becoming  dependent  and  feel  herself  a  burden 
upon  him,  Rachel  was  requested  to  come  and  take  charge 
of  his  motherless  children,  filling  my  sister's  place — thus 
making  it  appear  that  she  was  conferring  an  obligation  in 
stead  of  receiving  one.  Her  only  brother,  Basil  Thorn, 
he  had  educated  for  a  physician,  and  offered  him  the  plan- 


16  WOODBURN. 

Ration  practice,  with  his  influence  to  procure  that  of  our 
whole  neighborhood,  but  Basil  was  dissipated  and  un 
principled,  though  a  young  man  of  good  appearance,  and 
quite  clever  at  his  profession.  He  fell  violently  in  love 
with  my  sister  upon  his  return  from  college,  and  pretend 
ing  that  her  scorn  had  driven  him  to  desperation,  ran  into 
all  kind  of  excesses — gambled  deeply,  and  ended  by  forg 
ing  my  father's  name  for  several  thousand  dollars,  which 
was  not  discovered  until  after  the  money  had  been  paid, 
when  with  his  usual  generosity,  and  kindness  of  heart — not 
altogether  unmixed  with  family  pride — he  hushed  up  the 
matter,  and  allowed  Basil  to  keep  his  ill-gotten  gold  pro 
vided  'he  would  leave  the  country  and  give  a  solemn 
promise  never  to  return.  This  promise  was  given,  and 

young  Thorn  went  off,  no  one  knew  whither,  leaving  his 

• 
sister  p'oor,  and  unprotected,   and  then   it  was  my  kind 

father  offered  her  a  home,  which  she  gladly  accepted. 

Rachel  Thorn  was,  perhaps,  some  three  years  younger 
than  Ethel,  and  as  petite  as  my  sister  was  stately.  She 
too  was  fair,  but  such  a  different  type  of  fairness,  you 
could  not  call  them  alike  in  complexion,  as  well  compare 
the  dead  lustreless  white  of  a  detura  to  the  dewy  freshness 
of  a  pale  tea-rose.  Rachel's  hair  was  very  light,  as  were 
her  brows  and  lashes,  over-shadowing  eyes  of  a  cold,  steel 
grey,  almost  cruel  in  their  expression  when  lit  by  anger, 
and  always  having,  even  in  her  pleasantest  moods,  some 
thing  in  them,  as  had  also  her  thin,  sneering  lips,  disagree- 


OUR   FAMILY   AT   WOODBURN.  17 

able,  one  scarcely  knew  why,  and  never  hidden — not  even 
when  she  uttered  honeyed  flatteries — from  those  who  knew 
the  inner  workings  of  her  subtle  nature. 

I  never  liked  Rachel  Thorn ;  nay,  I  even  disliked  her 
from  the  first  moment  of  our  meeting;  not  because  she 
came  to  fill  the  place  of  an  almost  idolized  sister,  for  had 
she  been  lovable  I  should  in  time  have  learned  to  love  her ; 
but  sometimes  children,  with  the  pure  instincts  springing 
from  their  perfect  innocence,  seem  to  shun  with  aversion 
their  opposites,  reading  the  characters  of  deep  and  danger 
ous  people  oftentimes  with  far  more  accuracy  than  those 
well  versed  in  the  ways  of  the  world.  It  seems  to  me  a 
strange  divine  kind  of  instinct,  such  as  leads  young  birds 
and  animals  to  know  and  avoid  their  natural  enemies. 
Rachel's  nature  was  imperious  and  domineering,  and  the 
year  she  ruled  at  "Woodburn  during  Ethel's  absence,  was  a 
sad  trial  to  Ralph,  myself,  and  the  servants,  for  she  proved 
exacting  and  tyrannical  to  all  save  my  father,  but  invari 
ably  smiling,  attentive  and  affectionate  to  him,  she  antici 
pated  every  wish,  and  exerted  her  really  fine  conversational 
powers  for  his  amusement,  sang  his  favorite  songs,  played 
his  favorite  games,  and  in  short  used  all  the  arts  that  a 
smart,  wily  woman  can  use  with  such  advantage  to  fascinate 
an  old  uncle,  upon  -whose  good  opinion  she  depends  for 
home,  dress,  position,  every  thing  that  such  women  prize 
with  the  intense  selfishness  of  their  ambitious  and  design 
ing  natures. 


18  WOODBUKN. 

My  father  liked  Rachel,  because  she  interested  and 
amused  him,  and  when  either  Ralph  or  myself  complained 
of  her  being  unreasonable  and  domineering  he  would  fancy 
that  regret  at  losing  my  sister's  gentle  government,  pre 
vented  our  judging  her  successor  with  any  degree  of  im 
partiality,  and  therefore  soothing  us,  as  children  are  so  apt 
to  be  soothed  on  such  occasions,  he  would  end  by  saying : 

"  Well,  well,  my  little  ones,  you  must  try  and  love  cousin 
Rachel,  she  is  a  smart,  pleasant  girl,  and  wants  to  do  right. 
You  cannot  expect  every  one  to  be  as  perfect  as  Ethel." 

So  as  time  wore  on  we  scarcely  ever  spoke  of  Rachel's 
faults  to  my  father,  looking  upon  her  as  a  fixture  in  the 
house,  avoiding  her  as  much  as  possible,  and  laughing  to 
gether  over  the  sly,  artful  way,  by  which  she  kept  herself 
in  good  repute  with  the  master  of  Woodburn,  where  she 
ruled  with  a  high  hand  until  my  sister's  return,  when 
there  was  a  change  of  dynasty,  much  to  our  relief. 

Oh !  how  Rachel  Thorn  hated  Ethel,  for  coming  back, 
yet  she  feared  to  show  it,  and  one  who  did  not  know  the  hid 
den  meaning  of  her  deep  ways,  might  have  supposed  that  she 
doted  upon  her  beautiful  cousin — but  we  knew  better,  and 
so  did  my  sister,  who  amused  Ralph  and  myself  beyond 
expression  by  the  quiet,  queenly  contempt,  with  which  she 
received  her  flatteries,  and  the  cool  way  in  which  she  not 
unfrequently  unmasked  the  little '  actress  was  inimitable ! 
But  why  did  my  sister  return  to  her  girlhood's  home,  and 
where  was  her  husband  ? 


CHAPTER    II. 

MY     SISTER     ETHEL. 


"We  mourned  her  going — human  hearts  will  yearn 
For  those  they  love — and  she  had  been  our  pride, 

Yet,  mourned  we  more  to  see  her  thus  return, 
Widowed  in  heart, — who  was  so  late  a  bride ! 


ETHEL  PERCY  was  a  belle  even  before  her  school  days 
were  well  over ;  alas !  too  often  is  this  the  case  in  America, 
and  particularly  in  the  Southern  States,  where  girls  mature 
so  early.  With  rare  perfections  both  of  mind  and  person, 
and  being  called  upon  to  take  charge  of  the  establishment 
at  Woodburn,  where  my  father  entertained  a  great  deal  of 
company — while  yet  almost  a  child,  she  was,  of  course, 
observed,  petted,  and  admired — nay,  might  have  been 
spoiled, — as  many  have  been  under  similar  circumstances 
— but  some  natures  are  too  pure,  too  firm,  to  be  tainted  by 
flattery,  and  resist  it,  even  as  adamant  resists  the  corroding 
acids,  or  consuming  heat  that  would  tarnish  or  destroy  a 
softer  gem.  My  father  was  proud  of  her,  glad  to  see  her 
admired ;  how  could  it  be  otherwise  ? 

Ethel  had  teachers  from  the  time  she  knew  her  alphabet, 
and  was  entirely  educated  at  home,  as  boarding  schools 


20  WOODBURN. 

were  held  in  detestation  by  my  father,  and  Mrs.  Blake,  of 
whom  I  expressed  such  a  holy  horror  in  the  last  chapter, — 
supposed  to  have  white  eyes,  full  of  lightning  darts,  with 
thunder  enthroned  upon  her  brows — being  Ethel's  last 
governess,  remained  at  Woodburn  after  her  marriage  for 
our  benefit,  until  one  day  she  informed  my  father,  with  a 
solemn,  subdued  look,  that  her  scholars  (particularly  Miss 
Dunbar  and  Master  Ralph)  were  entirely  beyond  her  con 
trol,  and  she  would  be  compelled,  very  reluctantly,  to 
resign  her  place  to  some  one  who  could  command  their 
respect.  The  truth  is,  I  have  alway  had  my  suspicions  that 
this  same  middle-aged  dame, — being  of  rather  an  ambitious 
temperament — had  some  lurking  ghost  of  a  hope  forever 
haunting  one  corner  of  her  icy  heart,  that  as  gentlemen  had 
been  known  to  marry  their  housekeepers,  or  perchance 
their  children's  governess,  such  a  thing  might  occur  again, 
at  least  it  was  within  the  range  of  possibility,  but  as  time 
wore  on,  finding  she  would  be  quite  as  successful  in  melt 
ing  an  iceberg  with  her  albino  eyes,  as  in  making  an 
impression  with  the  same  luminaries  upon  the  armor  of 
freezing  politeness  in  which  the  master  of  Woodburn  in 
cased  himself  (when  she  was  about) — and  having  a  most 
cordial  dislike  to  Rachel  Thorn,  whose  spiteful  speeches 
worried  her  as  a  sly,  vindictive  little  cat  might  be  supposed 
to  torment  a  great,  surly  mastiff; — Mrs.  Blake,  as  other 
amiable  ladies  of  the  same  class  would  doubtless  have  done 
under  such  trying  circumstances — threw  the  blame  on  her 


MY   SISTER   ETHEL.  21 

pupils, — and  left  Woodburn  in  high  disgust,  to  seek  out 
some  more  favored  abode,  inhabited  by  widowers,  with 
hearts  less  stony  than  she  believed  my  father's  to  be. 
Poor  Mrs.  Blake !  I  did  not  love  her  much,  and  some 
times,  may  be,  worried  her  a  little,  but  have  unceasingly 
endeavored  to  atone  for  all  this  by  hoping  she  is  married  ! 

When  Ethel  was  in  her  seventeenth  year  my  father  took 
her  with  him  to  New  Orleans,  where  (after  some  per 
suasion)  he  consented  she  should  remain  with  some  friends 
for  several  weeks,  and  returned  home  without  her.  He 
regretted  this  afterwards,  but  short-sighted  mortals  cannot 
rule  their  destinies,  nor  the  destinies  of  their  children. 
During  that  visit  it  was  that  my  sister  met  Arthur  Linton. 
Handsome,  graceful,  and  accomplished,  she  was  dazzled 
by  his  brilliant,  winning  ways,  though  in  intellect  he  was 
far  her  inferior.  Being  a  Northerner  and  a  stranger  in 
the  city,  little  was  known  of  young  Linton,  save  that  his 
family  was  good,  his  father  a  man  of  wealth,  and  over  in 
dulgent  to  his  only  son,  who  was  decidedly  fast — a  genteel 
correction  of  dissipated. 

Ethel  knew  not  of  this, — at  least,  she  turned  a  deaf  ear 
to  those  who  warned  her ;  saw  only  the  perfections  of  her 
lover — for  such  he  soon  became — and  reputed  all  reports 
regarding  his  dissipated  habits,  as  slanders  arising  from 
envy  of  his  fine  appearance  and  fascinating  manners,  for 
to  my  lovely  deluded  sister  he  seemed  perfection,  "  an  ad 
mirable  Crighton."  and  so  encouraged  by  her  preference 


22  WOODBURN. 

from  the  first,  Arthur  Linton  followed  Ethel  to  Wood- 
burn. 

My  father  was  captivated  by  the  young  stranger,  who 
in  playing  for  such  a  prize  played  skillfully — and  won, 
leaving  for  the  North  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  as  my 
sister's  affianced  husband.  There  was  no  one  there  to  warn 
him  of  Arthur's  dissipated  habits,  for  the  friends  who 
would  have  saved  Ethel,  finding  her  so  incredulous,  for 
bore  further  interference,  and  being  satisfied  as  to  his 
family,  and  position,  my  father  (not  on  the  look-out  for 
faults)  was  beguiled,  as  his  daughter  had  been,  by  ease, 
grace,  amiability — and  that,  je  ne  sais  quoi,  so  often 
marking  the  manners  of  fast  young  men,  and  rendering 
them  attractive.  Their  marriage  was  to  take  place  in  six 
months — on  her  seventeenth  birth-day,  though  at  first  my 
father  objected  to  this,  on  account  of  Ethel's  extreme 
youth,  and  wanted  the  wedding  postponed  until  she  was 
eighteen,  but  Linton  was  eloquent,  and  succeeded  in  carry 
ing  his  point. 

It  was  during  their  engagement  that  Basil  Thorn  return 
ed  from  college — having  completed  his  medical  studies  in 
New  York,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five — and  fell  so  violently 
in  love  with  Ethel.  He  addressed  her  during  Arthur's 
absence,  though  she  strove  by  every  means  to  prevent  it, 
and  when  at  last,  she  was  compelled,  in  rejecting  his  hand, 
to  announce  her  engagement,  and  approaching  marriage 
with  another,  his  rage  knew  no  bounds,  and  repeatedly  he 


MY  SISTER  ETHEL.  23 

swore  to  be  revenged  upon  her,  and  upon  her  future  hus 
band.  He  left  no  effort  untried  to  prevent  the  marriage, 
and  mixing  as  Basil  Thorn  did  with  dissipated  society,  he 
was  actually  in  possession  of  much  information  regarding 
Linton's  career,  of  which  my  father  and  sister  were  ignorant 
— of  course,  attributing  all  he  said,  and  wrote  to  them  upon 
this  subject,  to  jealousy  of  a  successful  rival.  His  motives 
were  selfish  and  mean;  yet,  would  to  God  he  had  succeed 
ed  in  breaking  off  this  match,  for  years  of  after  misery  had 
thus  been  spared. 

One  of  Basil's  letters  to  my  father  upon  the  subject 
contained  something  which  evidently  troubled  him  much 
for  a  time,  but  which  he  burned,  and  we  never  knew  its 
contents  until  the  truth  of  what  he  wrote,  alas !  had  been 
too  bitterly  proved. 

It  was  to  be — such  things  seem  fated — -and  spite  the 
warnings  of  true  friends,  and  Basil  Thorn's  selfish  inter 
ference,  the  beautiful  Ethel  Percy  became  Mrs.  Linton, 
and  after  remaining  a  week  at  Woodburn,  left  us  a  happy 
and  blooming  bride  for  her  husband's  northern  home.  They 
were  to  return  and  spend  the  winter  at  Woodburn,  which 
so  far  consoled  us  for  Ethel's  loss  that  we  bore  it  patiently, 
if  not  cheerfully. 

A  few  months  after  this  Basil  ended  his  mad  career  by 
committing  forgery,  as  before  related,  and  Rachel  came  to 
live  at  Woodburn. 

At  first  Ethel's  letters  were  full  of  happiness — she  was 


24  WOODBURN. 

charmed  with  her  new  home,  and  friends,  and  wrote  of 
Arthur  as  the  best,  most  indulgent  of  husbands,  his  father 
devoted  to  her,  etc.,  etc. — but  six  months  brought  different 
tidings. 

Old  Mr.  Linton,  whose  wealth  was  the  result  of  enor 
mous  speculations,  had  been  unfortunate  in  business,  and 
lost  his  fortune  as  suddenly  as  it  was  made.  Arthur's 
affluence,  being  derived  from  his  father's  generosity,  was 
thus  changed  to  poverty,  and  as  the  old  gentleman  fell  ill  and 
died  shortly  after  his  failure,  there  seemed  little  hope  for 
their  future,  as  his  son  had  no  business  capacity.  My  father 
immediately  remitted  funds  to  Ethel,  and  continued  to  do 
so  from  time  to'  time,  advising  them  to  come  South,  and 
promising  to  assist  her  husband  in  his  misfortunes. 

From  these  sums  (as  we  afterwards  learned)  Ethel  de 
rived  but  little  benefit,  for  Linton  had  been  gradually 
sliding  back  into  his  old  habits  of  dissipation — abandoned 
for  some  time  before  and  after  his  marriage — and  ere  the 
first  anniversary  of  her  wedding-day  came  round,  my  sis 
ter's  letters  were  so  full  of  wretchedness,  that  young  as  we 
were,  both  Ralph  and  myself  observing  our  father's  haggard 
look  of  misery  after  reading  them,  asked  him  if  Ethel  was 
sick? 

He  put  us  off  by  saying  she  was  not  well,  which  answer 
was  far  from  satisfactory,  and  with  a  kind  of  childish,  lov 
ing  instinct,  after  talking  the  matter  over,  we  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  something  was  amiss  with  our  sweet  sister, 


MY   SISTER  ETHEL.  25 

and  that  she  was  unhappy — saying  we  hated  Arthur  Lin- 
ton  for  taking  her  away  just  to  make  her  miserable,  and 
wishing  he  was  dead  -which  was  rather  spiteful,  to  be  sure, 
but  quite  natural  under  the  circumstances,  for  we  doted  on 
Ethel,  and  took  it  for  granted,  as  we  were  kept  in  the  dark 
about  it,  that  he  must  abuse  her. 

At  last  a  letter  came,  but  not  in  her  hand-writing, 
which  caused  my  dear  father  to  turn  very  pale,  and  imme 
diately  after  reading  it.  he  requested  Rachel  Thorn  to  have 
his  trunk  packed,  as  he  should  leave  the  next  morning  for 
New  York. 

This  letter,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  was  from  an  old 
friend  of  his,  residing  in  that  city,  whose  painful  task  it 
was  to  communicate  that  my  brother-in-law,  after  the  loss 
of  his  fortune,  had  become  excessively  dissipated,  drink 
ing  to  intoxication,  and  constantly  frequenting  gambling 
saloons. 

In  one  of  these,  a  few  nights  previous  to  the  date  of  his 
letter,  Arthur,  while  under  the  influence  of  brandy,  had 
become  involved  in  a  quarrel  so  desperate  that  it  ended  in 
his  killing  his  antagonist ;  when  to  avoid  immediate  arrest, 
he  was  obliged  to  secrete  himself,  inducing  Ethel  by  letter 
to  forward  his  trunk  of  clothes  to  a  certain  place,  where  he 
pretended  to  be  called  unexpectedly  by  business. 

Vainly  and  anxiously  she  awaited  his  return,  until  at 
last  another  letter  came,  in  which  the  whole  fearful  truth 
was  revealed.  Arthur  represented  himself  therein  as  a 


26  WOODBURN. 

beggar  and  a  murderer,  obliged  to  fly  the  country  for  his 
life,  and  entreating  that  she  would  return  to  her  father, 
her  husband  having  forfeited  all  claim  to  her  love,  and 
would  never  return  to  be  a  disgrace  to  those  who  had  once 
loved  him. 

My  sister's  condition  after  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  as 
may  well  be  imagined,  bordered  upon  madness ;  and  noth 
ing  further  being  heard  from  Arthur,  Mr.  wrote, 

begging  my  father  to  come  at  once  and  take  her  home. 
After  bis  arrival  at  New  York — both  for  Ethel's  sake  and 
to  satisfy  himself — every  possible  search  and  inquiry  was 
made  to  ascertain  the  hiding  place  of  her  unfortunate  hus 
band — but  all  to  no  purpose,  he  had  evidently  left,  the 
country,  and  all  that  remained  for  my  father  was  to  soothe 
his  almost  heart-broken  child,  with  that  tender  affection 
she  prized — aye — doubly  now — and  to  bring  her  back  pale 
and  sad  to  Woodburn,  from  whence  she  had  so  lately  gone 
a  happy  bride.  Thus  at  the  early  age  of  eighteen  was  my 
beautiful  sister  left  a  deserted  wife.  My  father,  of  course, 
reproached  himself  bitterly  for  consenting  to  their  mar 
riage — yet  completely  deceived,  as  he  was,  regarding  Lin- 
ton's  real  character,  who  could  blame  him  ?  No  wonder 
that  one  so  noble,  true,  and  good,  should  be  unsuspicious 
of  evil  in  others,  especially  when  that  evil  wore  so  fair  a 
mask,  besides  being  linked  with  some  really  good  qualities, 
for  Arthur  Linton  was  amiable,  generous,  and  affectionate, 
and  had  never  been  rough  or  unkind  to  Ethel  personally, 


MY   SISTER  ETHEL.  27 

though  neglect  is  unkindness,  and  he  avoided  her  when 
under  the  influence  of  those  evil  passions  which  led  him  on 
to  ruin. 

As  time  wore  on  Ethel  became  less  sad,  and  sonetimes  I 
fancied  she  had  a  hope  that  her  husband  would  reform,  and 
return  yet  to  make  her  happy,  until  at  last — one  day, 
about  a  year  after  she  arrived  at  "Woodburn — all  such 
hopes  were  finally  dissipated  by  the  receipt  of  a  California 
paper  directed  to  my  father,  in  which  a  notice  of  Arthur 
Linton's  death,  "from  brain  fever,"  was  carefully  marked. 
The  young  widow  grieved  piteously  at  first,  but  after  an 
other  year,  we  could  see  that  she  regained  her  cheerfulness 
more  surely,  and  naturally,  than  while  pining  under  the 
double  misery  of  being  the  deserted  wife  of  a  gambler. 
Six  years  had  passed  since  then,  to  the  date  of  my  story, 
and  amid  the  sweet  atmosphere,  and  lovely  surroundings 
of  that  beloved  home,  our  darling  Ethel  had  matured  into 
the  beautiful  woman  before  whom  I  knelt  caressingly  on 
that  fair  spring  evening,  when  we  were  discussing  Mr. 
Clifford's  expected  arrival  at  Woodburn. 


CHAPTER    III. 

MR.     CLIFFORD. 

"  A  touch  starts  the  sleeper.    He  wakes.    It  is  day, 

And  the  beam  that  dispels  all  the  phantoms  of  night 
Thro'  the  room  sends  a  kindly  and  comforting  ray  ; 
The  streets  are  new-peopled ;  the  morning  is  bright" 

OWEN  MEREDITH. 

THE  next  morning  I  awoke  with  that  nervous,  uneasy 
feeling,  which  is  apt  to  possess  the  minds  of  young  persons, 
particularly  those  who  are  excitable  and  sensitive  in  their 
organization,  when  something  disagreeable  is  about  to 
happen — something  we  would  feign  avoid,  but  cannot,  an 
inevitable  necessity,  to  which  the  mind  must  be  made  up, 
as  to  the  pulling  of  a  tooth,  and  from  which  we  shrink 
with  mental  dread,  as  the  body  does  in  anticipation  of 
physical  pain.  For  in  spite  of  our  new  tutor's  pleasant 
sounding,  aristocratic  name,  with  which  I  pretended  to 
console  myself  the  previous  evening,  my  dreams  of  Mr. 
Clifford  were  none  of  the  sweetest. 

The  horrid  ogreish  picture  drawji  by  Ralph,  haunted  me 
all  night,  and  once,  when  with  a  sudden  start  and  cry,  I 
awoke,  to  feel  my  sister's  soft  hand  laid  gently  on  my 


&R.    CLIFFORD.  29 

brow,  and  hear  her  firm,  sweet  voice  whispering,  "Lie 
still.  Amy,  dear ;  what  is  the  matter?  " 

I  replied,  drowsily,  "  Oh !  Sis,  I  dreamed  our  new 
teacher  was  just  as  Ralph  described,  savage  as  a  Bengal 
tiger,  and  my  start  just  now  was  a  dodge  to  avoid  the  big 
dictionary,  which  he  seemed  hurling  at  my  head." 

Ethel  laughed,  and  patting  me  playfully  said,  "Go  to 
sleep,  little  one,  and  dream  of  the  name  which  seemed  too 
nice  for  Ealph's  ogre." 

Yet  still,  though  I  went  to  sleep  again,  imagining  Mr. 
Clifford  as  the  patient,  dangling,  good-natured  individual  I 
had  pictured  in  opposition  to  my  brother,  from  my  dreams 
he  still  arose,  bristling,  fierce  and  inflexible,  fastened  upon 
my  mind  as  the  "  old  man  of  the  sea  "  on  Sinbad's  body. 
And  when  our  maid  Lucy,  with  her  low  voice,  whispered, 
as  she  drew  aside  the  curtains,  "  Come,  Miss  Ethel,  Miss 
Amy,  it's  eight  o'clock,  time  to  get  up,  mammy  says 
breakfast's  most  ready,"  I  could  scarcely  shake  off  the 
dreamy  conviction  that  Ralph's  Mr.  Clifford  was  storming 
in  the  school -room  because  of  my  laziness,  and  waiting 
there  to  annihilate  me  with  his  green  eyes  .and  carbuncle 
nose.  So  while  Lucy  was  combing  out  Ethel's  magnificent 
hair,  I  sat  tardily  pulling  on  my  gaiters,  looking  quite  dis 
consolate  and  forlorn.  When  suddenly  catching  sight  of 
me,  my  sister  laughed  aloud,  exclaiming : 

"Do,  for  pity's  sake,  Amy,  cheer  up ;  for  should  you 
look  so  dismal  when  this  dreaded  Englishman  arrives, 


30  WOODBURN.  ' 

he  will  be  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  you  are  the 
scape-goat  of  the  family,  or  that — worse  still — you  have 
a  step-mother;  from  which  last  named  calamity  the 
saints  preserve  us,'  she  added  devoutly.  "  Your  pet, 
Mrs.  Blake,  for  instance ;  just  fancy  now,  Amy,  if  father 
had  been  bewitched  with  that  perfect  embodiment  of 
all  the  cardinal  virtues,  and,  clasping  us  to  his  heart 
some  fine  morning,  whispered  into  our  ears  the  elec 
trifying  intelligence,  that  the  dearest,  sweetest,  best  mam 
ma  on  earth  was  already  picked  out  and  ready  for 
us !  Picture  it,  think  of  it,  such  things  have  been  ; 
and  remember,  in  comparison  to  such  a  trial,  how 
trifling  is  the  advent  of  even  a  savage  teacher ;  and  do 
you  know,  I've  taken  it  into  my  head  that  he 'will  prove 
quite  a  pleasant  person  after  all,  and  that  learning  from 
him  will  be  to  you  like  a  draught  of  champagne,  sweet 
and  exhilarating,  after  being  plied  with  the  bitter  tonic 
of  Blake's  temper  for  such  a  time,"  and  she  glanced  up 
at  me  with  a  beam  of  sparkling  mirth  in  her  eyes, 
which  melting  over  that  matchless  face,  lighted  even  its 
dimple  with  an  expressive  glow, 


"Like  any  fair  lake  which  the  breeze  is  upon, 
When  it  breaks  into  dimples,  and  laughs  in  the  sun — " 


continuing,  "haven't  you  dismissed  that  absurd  dream 
yet,  little  Sis  ?  Come,  let  me  curl  your  hair  while  Lucy 
is  braiding  mine,  and  then  look  your  prettiest,  so  as  to 


MR.    CLIFFORD.  31 

captivate  Mr.  Clifford  at  first  sight,  for  I  believe  he  is  to 
arrive  before  dinner." 

"  La,  Miss  Ethel,"  said  Lucy,  without  stopping  for  a 
moment  in  the  pleasant  task  of  which  she  was  so  fond, 
the  twisting  and  plaiting  those  wonderful  tresses,  "if 
you  mean  the  strange  teacher-man,  he's  done  come. 
Master  told  Archey  to  take  Zebra  out  to  de  landing, 
bright  and  early  dis  mornin',  as  de  boat  might  be  up  by 
daylight,  but  Archey  went  a  coon-hunting  wid  Massa 
Ralph  last  night,  and  so,  nigger-like,  he  went  and  over- 
slep  hissef ;  so  who  should  he  meet  over  dar  by  de  Elgin 
gate,  but  a  stranger-man,  and  den  Archey  say,  he  took 
off  his  hat  and,  says  he,  '  Good  mornin,  massa,  is  you 
gwying  to  Woodburn  ?'  and  de  gentleman  said  '  Yes,'  for 
de  boat,  you  see,  got  up  uncommon  early,  and  he  bor 
rowed  a  horse.  But  now,  getting  down,  what  did  he  do 
but  tell  Archey  to  take  de  critter  back  to  de  riber,  say 
ing  he  would  ride  Mr.  Percy's  horse  de  rest  ob  de  way. 
Den  says  Archey,  '  I  chuckled  and  laughed  to  myself,' 
— you  know  how  Archey  chuckles  when  anything  comes 
over  him  funny  like,  Miss  Ethel — '  for  thinks  I  to  my 
self,  dem  Yankee  men  from  de  North  don't  know  nuffin 
'tall  'bout  ridin'  sich  cantankerous  creeters  as  Zebra,  and 
I'll  be  bound  he;ll  get  throwed  'fore  he  strikes  de  Wood- 
burn  lane.  But  my  stars  !  Lucy,  dis  nigger  was  mis 
taken  once,  sure ;  for  no  sooner  did  dat  stranger-man  put 
his  hand  on  Zebra's  neck — but  twixt  you  and  me,  I  don't 


32  WOODBUKN. 

believe  he's  even  kin  to  a  Yankee — while  he  was  bowing 
it  up  and  looking  skittish, — then  he  stood  as  stock-still  as 
old  Bill,  when  he's  tired  out  ploughing, — and  when  the 
new  man  got  up,  'fore  de  Lord,  I  believe  he  thought  it 
was  Massa  Ralph  a  mountin'  him.'  But  good  gracious, 
young  ladies,  dar's  de  breakfast  bell !"  and  she  stuck  in 
the  last  hair-pin  with  such  a  spasmodic  jerk  that  my  sis 
ter  cried, 

"  Pray  don't  murder  me,  Lucy,  there's  no  hurry. 
Mammy  always  keeps  hot  cakes  for  us,  and  we  are  not 
expiring  with  anxiety  for  an  introduction  to  Mr.  Clifford ; 
are  we,  Miss  Percy  ?"  and  she  turned  to  me  with  mock 
dignity. 

"Well,  any  how,  Archey  tells  me  he's  monstrous 
fine  lookin',  and  don't  in  de  least  dissemble  a  school-master 
man,"  continued  the  loquacious  Lucy,  "with  that  at 
tempt  at  big  words  so  common  among  our  southern  house- 
servants. 

"  There  now,  Amy,  with  such  a  description  from  a  per 
son  of  such  undoubted  good  taste  as  Archey,  you  may 
dismiss  all  the  terrible  phantasmagoria  of  your  dreams 
last  night,  and  go  down  to  meet  this  elegant  newly-im 
ported  wonder,  in  the  shape  of  an  English  dominie,  with 
unruffled  assurance  ;"  and  Ethel  offered  me  her  arm  en 
couragingly,  as  Lucy  opened  the  door  for  us  to  descend  to 
the  breakfast-room. 

How  lovely  my  sister  looked  that  morning,  in  a  pure 


MR.   CLIFFORD.  33 

white  muslin  wrapper,  fastened  neatly  at  the  waist  by  a 
delicate  lilac  belt,  trimmed  daintily  round  the  throat  with 
soft,  fine  lace,  and  caught  together  with  a  curiously 
wrought  pin  of  Etruscan  gold.  No  wonder  she  generally 
adopted  a  rare  simplicity  of  dress,  when  it  became  her  so 
well. 

Mammy,  with  a  suspicion  that  we  would  be  late,  and 
fearing  that  her  unexceptionable  muffins  might  be  baked  a 
trifle  too  long,  had  the  bell  sounded  before  breakfast  was 
quite  ready,  to  hurry  us :  so  when  we  entered,  my  father 
was  just  showing  Mr.  Clifford  in  through  the  library 
door. 

"My  eldest  daughter,  Mrs.  Linton,  Mr.  Clifford,"  he 
said.  "  My  youngest  daughter,  Miss  Percy.  Amy, 
darling,  come  and  shake  hands  with  your  new  preceptor ;" 
and  then  I  looked  up  to  meet  the  large,  sad,  wonderfully 
persuasive  eyes  of  my  teacher  fixed  upon  me  so  encourag- . 
ingly,  that  with  a  blush  and  smile  of  positive  delight  at 
finding  the  ugly  monster  of  a  dream — from  which  I 
seemed  scarcely  awakened — as  if  by  magic,  transformed 
into  this  elegant  looking  individual;  and  when  with  a 
firm,  gentle  clasp  he  pressed  my  hand  between  both  of 
his,  which  were  white  and  finely  formed,  and  indicated 
gentle  birth  and  breeding,  even  to  the  shape  and  polish  of 
his  nails,  I  felt  very  happy  under  the  full  assurance  that 
Mr.  Clifford  was  my  friend  as  well  as  my  instructor. 

Even   Ethel,   with  all   her   queenly  self-possession  of 
2* 


34  WOODBURN. 

manner,  seemed  for  a  moment  almost  embarrassed,  so  com 
pletely  was  she  astonished  at  Mr.  Clifford's  unusually 
striking  appearance,  and  the  ease  and  polish  of  his  bearing. 
Such  eyes,  and  such  a  mouth,  would  have  redeemed  any 
face  (even  were  it  otherwise  positively  ugly),  and  lighting 
up,  as  they  did,  finely-cut  features,  a  clear,  pale  complex 
ion,  to  say  nothing  of  those  waving  sunny-brown  locks, 
and  a  soft  brown  beard,  the  effect  was  wonderfully  agree 
able.  In  figure  he  was  tall,  well  proportioned,  and  mus 
cular.  His  age  I  never  could  have  guessed  then,  for 
though  in  the  full  prime  of  mature  manhood,  one  might  be 
puzzled  to  say  whether  he  was  thirty-five  or  past,  though 
afterwards  I  knew  that  at  the  time  of  his  arrival  at  Wood- 
burn  Mr.  Clifford  was  thirty-eight. 

And  now  let  me  return  to  the  breakfast  table?  My 
father's  rule  was,  that  meals  should  be  served  punctually 
at  certain  hours, — never  allowing  one  member  of  the 
family  to  wait  for  another,  and  making  no  exception  even 
in  his  own  favor,  so  those  who  came  in  first  always  sat 
down,  and  those  who  happened  to  be  a  little  late,  did  not 
come  sneaking  to  the  table,  in  dread  of  a  lecture,  as  is  the 
case  in  many  "a  well  regulated  household" — less  happy 
in  their  rigid  punctuality  than  were  the  family  at  Wood- 
burn. 

So  it  chanced  the  morning  of  Mr.  Clifford's  arrival,  that 
Ethel  had  finished  pouring  out  our  coffee  when  Rachel 
Thorn  glided  in  through  the  balcony  door — her  movements 


MR.    CLIFFORD.  35 

were  all  gliding  and  stealthy,  as  a  cat — holding  in  her 
hand  a  basket  of  very  large  green  figs,  garnished  with 
roses  and  white  jasmine.  They  looked  very  tempting, 
with  the  dew  yet  glistening  upon  them,  and  the  bearer 
presented  no  unattractive  picture  as  she  entered,  prettily 
attired  in  a  delicate  blue  morning  dress,  round  garden  hat, 
and  black  silk  jacket.  Rachel's  figure  was  lithe  and 
graceful,  her  face  peculiar,  yet  rather  striking  and 
prepossessing  when  undisturbed  by  the  worst  passions  of  her 
nature,  and  strangers  upon  seeing  her  were  apt  to  remark, 
"What  a  graceful,  pretty  girl." 

"Ah!  Rachel!"  exclaimed  my  father,  "you  are  the 
only  industrious  bee  about  this  hive,  and  have  been  gather 
ing  in  your  store  of  sweets,  betimes,  I  see."  She  had 
placed  *  the  basket  before  him  on  the  breakfast  table. 
"Many  thanks,  what  a  delicious  treat,  and  the  first  really 
fine  figs  we  have  had  this  season.  Mr.  Clifford,  let  me  pre 
sent  you  to  my  niece,  Miss  Thorn." 

I  shall  never  forget  the  puzzled  look  of  wonder  that 
overspread  Rachel's  face  as  she  glanced  up  at  Mr.  Clifford, 
who  rose  at  once  and  bowed  with  that  perfect  ease  so 
peculiar  to  high-bred  men  who  have  traveled  and  seen 
much  of  the  world. 

Just  as  she  was  seated,  "  rattle-te-bang  "  echoed  through 
the  hall.  There  was  a  rush,  a  bark,  and  then  Ralph's 
merry  voice  crying : 

"  Down,  Towser,  don't  you  know  better,  you  old  rascal, 


86  WOODBURN. 

than  to  jump  with  your  dirty  paws  on  my  new  hunting 
suit  ?  Ho !  halloo  there,  Archey,  come  and  take  Lara  to 
the  stable,  will  you  ?  " 

Bristol,  the  waiter,  here  stepped  softly  to  the  hall  door, 
and  said,  in  a  rather  loud  whisper,  "  Archey  isn't  here, 
Massa  Ralph,  he's  dun  gone  to  de  river,  and  please  sir 
they'r  eating  breakfast."  With  which,  he  quietly  opened 
the  door  wide  enough  to  present  a  tableau  of  my  gay  young 
brother  in  his  green  hunting  clothes,  with  flushed  cheeks 
and  tousled  hair,  just  putting  down  his  gun,  with  a  bang, 
in  the  corner.  His  face  was  partially  turned  away  from 
the  open  door,  and  being  unaware  of  the  presence  of  a 
stranger,  he  shouted  out : 

"Good  morning  to  you  all.  Father,  have  you  been 
riding  this  morning  ?  I  missed  Zebra  out  of  the  stable, 
and  couldn't  find  that  lazy  scamp  Archey  two  hours  ago, 
to  saddle  my  horse." 

"  Come  in,  come  in  my  son.  I  have  not  been  out, 
though  Zebra  has,  (but  only  a  short  distance,)  owing  to 
your  pet  Archey's  oversleeping  himself.  He  is  a  lazy  dog 
truly,  but  we  have  a  surprise  for  you,  Ralph,  come  in,  I 
want  to  introduce  you  to  a  friend  of  mine." 

By  this  time  he  had  gained  the  door,  and  caught  sight 
of  our  stranger  guest. 

"  My  son,  Master  Ralph  Percy,  Mr.  Clifford,"  and  they 
were  shaking  hands  before  my  brother  had  time  to  recover 
from  the  dumb,  overpowering  astonishment  which  seemed 


MR.    CLIFFORD.  37 

to  take  possession  of  him,  on  hearing  the  name  of  our  new 
teacher. 

„.  * 

I  sent  him  a  triumphant  telegraphic  glance  across  the 
table,  and  the  mischievous  curl  of  Ethel's  lip  was  irresist 
ible,  as  she  said,  after  a  brief  pause  succeeding  this  last 
introduction  : 

"  Mr.  Clifford,  I  hope  you  can  draw,  so  that  Ralph's 
talent  for  this  art  may  be  cultivated, — as  he  has  remark 
able  taste  for  sketching,  especially  ideal  portraits  of  persons 
he  has  never  seen." 

My  brother  laughed,  of  course,  as  did  all  those  who  saw 
the  joke — how  could  he  help  it  ?  But  the  young  gentle 
man  looked  uncomfortable,  and  began  to  play  with  his  fork 
in  visible  trepidation.  Mr.  Clifford,  with  a  quick  percep 
tion  and  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous  for  which  he  was 
remarkable,  smiled,  with  that  beautiful  expressive  smile, 
which  seemed  to  illuminate  his  whole  face,  and  bowing  to 
my  sister  replied : 

"  I  do  draw,  Mrs.  Linton,  and  shall  be  most  happy  to 
assist  your  brother  in  his  sketches,"  for  he  knew  there  was 
a  joke  and  shrewdly  suspected  (as  he  told  us  afterwards) 
the  real  meaning  of  Ethel's  jesting  sarcasm. 

Such  was  our  first  breakfast  at  Woodburn  after  Mr. 
Clifford's  arrival.  Little  then  we  dreamed  how  strangely 
he  would  be  identified  with  us  in  the  progress  of  coming 
events.  That  blessed  and  perfect  wisdom  which  hides  the 


38        •  WOODBURN. 

future  from  us,  is  scarcely  appreciated, — for,  alas,  how  few 
happy  parties, — how  little  of  jest,  or  laughter,  would  there 
be,  were  we  suffered  to  gratify  the  human  curiosity, — so 
presumptuous — which  might  oftentimes  tempt  us  to  sweep 
aside  that  mysterious  veil,  and  rashly  look  beyond  it. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

OUR     SCHOOL     ROOM. 

_  "  In  a  chamber,  cool  and  simple, 

Trellised  light  from  roof  to  basement, 
And  a  Summer  wind  to  dimple 
The  white  curtain  at  the  casement." 

OWEN  MEREDITH. 

BACK  of  the  house, — detached  from  it,  and  so  near  thjt 
hawthorn  hedge  separating  yard  and  garden,  that  every 
breeze,  stealing  in  through  the  open  windows,  came  loaded 
with  balm, — stood  a  picturesque  little  cottage,  containing, 
on  one  side,  our  school  room,  light,  commodious  and  cheer 
ful,  and  on  the  other  two  smaller  rooms, — a  chamber  and 
study  for  the  teacher.  Finished  and  furnished  with  oak, 
curtained  with  delicate  blue  chintz — to  match  the  coverings 
of  the  furniture — with  a  dainty  little  book-case  and  writing 
desk  in  the  study,  these  apartments  were  a  very  model  of 
elegant  neatness, — and  I  gladly  accepted  the  pleasant  task 
assigned  me  by  my  father  of  introducing  Mr.  Clifford  to 
his  new  domain. 

He  seemed  pleased  with  all  the  arrangements,  and  par 
ticularly  to  find  his  own  apartments  thus  detached  from  the 
main  building,  "  for,"  he  remarked,  "here  I  shall  be  more 


40  WOODBURN. 

to  myself,  and  feel  less  a  trouble  to  the  family,  than  if 
obliged  to  come  and  go  constantly  through  the  house, 
appearing  unexpectedly  at  unseasonable  hours,  and  perhaps 
causing  the  various  members  of  your  family,  Miss  Amy, — 
who  are,  doubtless,  most  amiable  under  less  aggravating 
circumstances — to  wish  a  certain  nameless  individual  very 
far  off  in  an  opposite  direction." 

I  looked  up,  smiling,  and  with  the  innocent  straight-for 
wardness  so  common  in  very  young  girls,  replied*  "  Well, 
perhaps  if  you  were  cross  and  ugly,  as  I  fancied  you  might 
be,  such  a  thing  is  possible — but  surely,  Mr.  Clifford,  you 
cjpn't  suppose  for  a'  moment  that  any  of  us  could  wish  you 
out  of  the  way?" 

"  I  hope  not,"  he  said,  evidently  much  amused  at  my 
earnest  manner  ;  "  and  perhaps  there  is  a  tinge  of  selfish 
ness  in  my  liking  this  little  cottage  so  much,  for,  besides 
disliking  to  be  troublesome,  I  am  very  fond  of  being  quiet, 
when  inclined  to  read  or  write — and  now,  Miss  Amy,  tell 
me,  will  you,  who  are  to  be  my  scholars,  only  yourself  and 
your  brother?" 

"No,"  I  answered,  "there  is  another,  Pearl  Dunbar, 
who  will  ride  several  miles  every  morning  to  join  our  class. 
She  is  the  adopted  daughter  of  a  relation  of  my  father's, 
whom  we  always  call  '  Uncle,'  and  though,  in  reality,  Pearl 
is  not  related  to  us,  she  seems  like  a  dear  cousin,  indeed 
almost -a  sister,  so  constantly  have  we  been  together  from 
our  infancy." 


THE    SCHOOL    ROOM.  41 

"Pearl!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Clifford.  "What  a  very 
strange,  sweet  name.  Is  she  remarkably  fair — a  blonde — 
to  be  thus  named?" 

.  "  Oh,  no,  quite  the  reverse,"  I  said ;  "  she  was  called 
Pearl  when  my  uncle  adopted  her,  at  which  time  she  was 
four  years  old,  and  I  know  nothing  of  her  previous  history. 
The  Dunbars  live  at  Elgin,  the  beautiful  place  you  passed 
just  before  reaching  here,  on  your  way  from  the  river. 
She  looks  like  a  Spanish  girl ;  is  very  talented,  handsome, 
as  wild  as  a  deer,  *a  perfect  Die  Vernon  on  horseback,  and 
is  just  a  little  past  sixteen."  ^ 

I  paused,  suddenly,  for  a  moment,  wondering  why  Mr. 
Clifford  should  look  so  sad,  or  rather,  so  much  sadder  than 
usual,  while  listening  to  this  hasty  description  of  a  perfect 
stranger;  and  then — fearing  he  might  notice  my  hesita 
tion — went  on : 

"  And  my  cousin,  Rachel  Thorn,  to  whom  you  were 
introduced  this  morning,  intends,  I  believe,  taking  lessons 
in  drawing,  and  German  also — if  you  teach  German.  So 
you  Avill  have  four  scholars  instead  of  two  ;  quite  enough, 
I  fancy,  to  try  your  patience  to  the  utmost.  And  now, 
suppose  we  stroll  through  the  garden,  it  is  so  lovely  !" 

Saying  which,  without  waiting  for  a  reply.  I  bounded 
down  from  the  little  vine-covered  verandah,  and  through 
an  arched  pass-way  cut  in  the  hedge,  followed  by  my 
teacher,  who  accepted  the  proposed  ramble  with  evident 
pleasure  ;  and  knowing,  as  all  thoroughly  well-bred  persons 


42  WOODBURN. 

• 

do,  that  the  chief  charm  of  keeping  up  conversation  pleas 
antly,  especially  with  a  stranger,  is  by  lending  an  interested 
attention  to  what  is  said,  and  never  interrupting  the  speaker, 
Mr.  Clifford  won  me  completely,  by  listening,  with 
apparent  satisfaction,  to  all  my  girlish  chatter  about  every 
thing  connected  with  Woodburn  and  its  surroundings. 
Then,  to  the  many  questions  I  asked  regarding  far-off 
countries — having  discovered  that  he  was  a  great  traveler — 
he  replied  so  fully  and  so  kindly,  rather  encouraging  than 
checking  my  curiosity,  that  ere  our  conversation  ended,  I 
came  deliberately/to  the  opinion  that  Mr.  Clifford  was  the 
most  fascinating  of  teachers — if  not  of  men.  I  had  not 
known  many,  to  be  sure;  yet  the  sincere  respect  and 
admiration  of  a  young  heart,  as  yet  unspoiled  by  the  (too 
often)  contaminating  influences  of  society — is  no  unworthy 
meed  of  praise. 

Our  walk  through  the  garden  extended  all  over  the 
premises,  and  the  great  plantation  bell  was  ringing  for 
twelve  o'clock  as  we  sauntered  up  through  that  grand  old 
avenue  of  live  oaks  to  the  front  door ;  my  companion 
started  at  the  sound,  and,  turning  to  me  quickly,  said, 

"  Why,  that  is  like  a  boat-bell  !  yet,  surely,  you  cannot 
hear  them  thus  distinctly  so  far  from  the  river." 

I  laughed  out — and  explained  that  it  was  only  the  plan 
tation  bell  ringing,  to  call  in  the  hands  from  the  field  to 
their  dinner. 

"  Ah,  yes ;  I  had  forgotten,"  he  replied.    "  The  regula- 


OUR  SCHOOL-ROOM.  43 

tions  here  are  pretty  much  the  same,  I  believe,  as  on  the 
places  in  Cuba." 

"In  Cuba!"  I  could  not  help  repeating,  "Have  you 
been  to  Cuba,  too,  Mr.  Clifford?" 

"  Yes,  I  lived  there  once  for  nearly  a  year."  And  then 
that  same  unaccountably  sad  expression  which  he  had  worn 
when  I  was  describing  Pearl,  again  flitted  over  his  face ; 
so  I  instantly  refrained  from  pursuing  the  subject ;  and 
seeing  Ethel  at  the  front  door,  I  ran  on  to  ask  her  if 
lunch  was  ready? 

So  soon  as  Mr.  Clifford  joined  us,  I  left  him  with  my 
sister,  and  went  into  the  library,  hoping  to  find  my  father 
and  Ralph,  that  they  might  be  consulted  about  a  riding 
party  in  the  evening,  for  our  new  teacher's  benefit ;  that 
he  might  be  introduced  to  Pearl,  for  whom  we  were  to  call 
at  Elgin,  and  then  go  on  to  the  Cliffs.  It  was  all  quickly 
arranged  and  discussed  as  we  sat  at  lunch. 

"Ethel  must  lead  the  party,"  said  my  father,  "with 
Mr.  Clifford ;  as  she  is  a  fine  rider,  and  deserves  such  an 
escort — if  Archy's  account  of  our  friend's  horsemanship 
be  correct,"  and  he  winked  at  me  with  a  quizzical  expres 
sion,  "for  your  ability  to  control  Zebra,  Mr.  Clifford,  has 
convinced  this  pet  darky  of  Ralph's  that  you  are  the  very 
prince  of  equestrians,  as  he  is  rather  a  fiery  animal,  and 
not  always  very  docile  with  strangers — though  I  had  no 
hesitation  in  sending  him  out  for  you,  as  Englishmen  gen 
erally  are  fine  riders.  The  cause  of  Archey's  surprised  ad- 


44  WOODBURN. 

miration,  however,  is,  that  he  thought  you  were  a  north 
erner,  and  as  a  general  rule  they  are  not  brought  up  in 
the  saddle,  as  is  the  case  with  our  southern  youth  of  both 
sexes." 

"  Hiding  is  a  part  also  of  English  education,"  said  Mr. 
Clifford,  pleasantly,  "  and  therefore  I  deserve  little  credi 
for  making  friends  so  soon  with  Zebra ;  and  though  grate 
ful  for  Archey's  admiration,  I  cannot  help  feeling  a  shrewd 
suspicion  that  mingled  therewith  was  a  shade  of  disappoint 
ment  at  my  failing  to  turn  a  summerset  aver  the  head  of 
your  spirited  chestnut,  Mr.  Percy." 

At  which  Ethel  and  myself  were  not  a  little  amused, 
remembering  the  account  of  that  amiable  Ethiopian's 
"  chuckle  "  at  the  triumph  his  fancied  Zebra  would  achieve 
to  Mr.  Clifford's  discomfiture,  related  to  us  that  morning 
by  Lucy. 

I  could  see  by  the  expression  of  Rachel  Thorn's  face, 
when  my  father  proposed  being  her  escort,  that  she  would 
rather  have  been  assigned  to  Mr.  Clifford ;  for  devoted  to 
the  society  and  attention  of  gentlemen,  she  never  failed,  in 
her  sly,  insinuating  way,  to  attract  the  notice  of  every  male 
visitor  at  Woodburn,  and  jealousy  of  my  sister's  superior 
attractions  was  the  master-passion  of  her  life.  Yet  too 
wily  to  let  the  uncle  she  had  so  thoroughly  succeeded  in 
blinding  as  to  her  real  character,  have  an  insight  into  those 
sly  manosuvres,  only  a  momentary  shade  of  annoyance 


OUR  SCHOOL-ROOM.  45 

flitted  over  her  countenance,  unobserved  by  all  save  me, 
ere  she  replied, 

"  Oh,  yes,  certainly,  with  pleasure.  You  know  I  don't 
care  always  to  ride  as  fast  as  the  rest,  so  we  can  jog  along 
as  quietly  as  you  wish." 

A  little  shaft  of  amiability,  aimed  at  our  handsome 
teacher,  who  was  peeling  a  banana  for  Ethel,  and  did  not 
even  hear  what  she  said,  I  think,  for  Rachel  bit  her  lip 
upon  observing  his  occupation,  as  she  glanced  up  at  him 
with  her  most  winning  smile,  while  speaking  to  my  father. 

Long  afterwards,  how  well  I  remembered  the  lightning 
glance  of  concentrated  hate  and  envy  she  cast  on  that  pre 
occupied  pair,  who  were  -chatting  gayly,  unconscious  of  her 
smiles  or  frowns.  How  strangely  and  vividly  such  passing 
scenes,  so  trifling  and  uninteresting  at  the  time,  seem  ste 
reotyped  upon  the  memory,  when,  from  after  circumstances, 
they  become  as  the  first  links  in  a  chain  of  events,  startling, 
unexpected,  unaccountable. 

As  we  left  the  lunch-table,  Ralph  gave  me  a  pinch  on 
the  arm,  and  whispered,  "So  we  are  to  have  one  more 
frolic,  Amy,  at  all  events,  before  the  game  of  Tipps  begins ; 
not  quite  as  exciting  as  a  race  with  Pearl,  to  be  sure ;  for 
we  must  behave  our  prettiest,  to  try  and  make  a  good  im 
pression  on  Mr.  Clifford.  I  say,  what  a  perfect  stunner  he  is 
— a  prince  in  disguise,  no  doubt.  And  now  just  mark  my 
prediction,  if  our  dear  cousin  Rachel  goes  to  imbibing  Ger 
man  from  him,  she  will  tumble  head  over  heels  in  love  ! — 


46  WOODBURN. 

not  with  Goethe  and  Schiller,  but  with  her  teacher,  and 
try,  like  the  sleek,  gliding  little  snake  she  is,  to  coil  about 
his  heart ;  and  then,  if  foiled  in  this,  as  is  most  likely,  look 
out  for  poisoned  stings  those  who  stand  in  her  way !  I 
wonder  what  on  earth  possessed  such  a  trump  of  a  fellow 
to  come  down  here,  Amy,  to  be  tormented  and  bedeviled 
with  us — old  Blake's  leavings! — Jupiter!  how  the  old 
woman  would  pitch  at  him,  and  roll  love-looks  instead  of 
thunder-gusts  out  of  her  white  eyes,  should  she  happen  to 
turn  up  about  this  time.  It's  well  she's  off,  fairly  out  of 
the  way.  You  know  father  offered  to  let  her  stay  here 
until  another  home  presented  itself:  for  Kachel  Thorn, 
and  our  never-to-be-forgotten,  or  lamented  either,  Blake, 
would  have  fought,  and  scratched  each  other's  eyes  out, 
over  this  handsome  Englishman,  like  two  tiger-cats  fight 
ing  over  a  young  elephant." 

What  a  wild,  merry  rattle-cap  he  was,  and  how  we 
laughed  together  over  his  absurd  conceit :  he  talked  at 
random,  little  dreaming  who  would  be  the  victim  of  Rachel's 
poisoned  .sting. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    PEARL    OF    ELGIN. 

"  The  eye's  dark  charm  'twere  vain  to  tell, 
But  gaze  on  that  of  the  gazelle, 
It  will  assist  thy  fancy  well." — BYBOJT. 

THE  evening  was  lovely,  the  moon  full,  and  our  plan 
was  to  leave  Woodburn  at  six  o'clock,  and  return  by 
moonlight.  We  were  all  assembled  at  the  front  door, 
waiting  for  the  horses,  except  Ethel — who,  when  she  came 
down  stairs,  looked  so  magnificent  in  her  dark  blue  riding- 
habit,  braided  and  buttoned  with  black,  a  black  hat, 
trimmed  with  blue  velvet,  and  decorated  with  a  long  black 
plume — that  even  Mr.  Clifford,  with  all  his  high-bred  self- 
possession,  could  not  conceal  a  look  of  wondering  admira 
tion  as  she  joined  us.  There  is  no  dress  so  becoming  to  a 
handsome,  graceful  woman,  as  a  riding  habit;  and  even 
Eachel,  although  so  petite,  had  looked  unusually  pretty 
until  my  sister  appeared,  whom  she  made  an  effort  to  em 
barrass  by  exclaiming — 

"Why,  cousin  Ethel,  how  perfectly  stunning. you  do 
look,  and  how  completely  we  email  people" — glancing  at 


48  WOODBURN. 

me — "are  extinguished,  'when  awful  beauty  puts  on  all 
her  charms.' " 

But  Kachel,  as  usual,  was  foiled  in  this  attempt  to 
discompose  the  fair  mark  at  which  her  flowery  shafts 
were  aimed ;  for,  turning  to  Mr.  Clifford,  she  coolly  re 
marked, 

"My  cousin's  great  partiality  unfits  her  for  rendering 
an  impartial  judgment  in  my  case,  so  you  must  excuse  her 
enthusiastic  expressions,  to  which,  fortunately,  I  have  be 
come  so  accustomed,  they  cease  to  confuse  me — come,  let 
us  be  going !" 

Rachel's  attacks  upon  my  sister  always  reminded  me  of 
some  foolish  child  firing  off  squibs  at  a  stately  swan,  when, 
without  even  ruffling  its  feathers,  the  proud  bird  sails  off 
over  the  water,  as  if  in  disdain  of  its  little  enemy;  and 
yet  the  cutting  edge  of  her  repartee  was  so  gracefully 
covered,  that  none,  save  those  who  knew  Ethel's  opin 
ion  of  Rachel  and  her  flatteries,  discovered  their  hidden 
sarcasm. 

Fleetfoot  was  restive,  and  I  observed  Mr.  Clifford  cast 
more  than  one  anxious  look  at  the  little  Arabian,  whose 
rider  patted  her  arched  neck  quietly  and  caressingly, 
while,  with  a  steady  hand,  she  drew  the  reins,  firmly 
checking  the  spirited  animal,  who  knew  her  voice  and 
touch  perfectly,  and  was  not  in  the  least  vicious. 

"You  are  a  confident  rider,  Mrs.  Linton,"  he  remarked, 
as  they  rode  off  in  a  fast  lope. 


THE    PEARL   OF   ELGIN.  49 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  confident,  but  not  fearless,  for  I 
would  not  attempt  to  ride  such  wild  horses  as  Pearl  Dun- 
bar  mounts,  yet  she  has  never  been  thrown,  though  we  all 
tremble  for  her  safety  at  times,  as  her  daring  almost 
amounts  to  recklessness." 

"  What  a  strong  will  and  high  spirit  Miss  Dunbar  must 
have,-"  he  remarked,  "  I  quite  long  to  see  her,  and  yet  al 
most  fear  the  prospect  of  having  such  a  wild  pupil.  la 
her  temper  very  imperious  ?" 

"  Oh,  you  must  not  dread  teaching  Pearl,"  she  an 
swered,  "she  is  impulsive  and  strong  in  her  prejudices, 
but  warm-hearted,  generous,  and  not  the  least  violent,  to 
us  she  is  very  dear,  almost  like  a  sister  ;  but  come,  we  are 
only  a  mile  from  Elgin  now,  let's  leave  the  rest  behind, 
and  you  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  judging  how  prepos 
sessing  your  new  pupil  is — at  least,  in  appearance — very 
soon;"  saying  which,  she  gave  the  reins  to  Fleetfoot,  and 
they  were  off  at  such  a  swift  canter  that  Ralph  and  myself 
only  succeeded  in  catching  up  with  them  when  turning 
into  the  Elgin  gate.  Pearl  was  standing  with  her  adopted 
brother  Victor,  out  before  the  front  door,  as  we  rode  up, 
for  they  were  expecting  us,  and  a  little  negro-boy  stood 
near  by,  holding  their  horses. 

Mr.  Clifford  and  Ralph,  quickly  dismounting,  advanced 
towards  them,  and,  as  my  brother  presented  his  companion, 
Pearl  threw  up  the  black  lace  veil  that  shaded  her  face, 

and  smiling,  with  her  warm,  sunny  Southern  smile,  held 

5 


50  WOODBURN. 

out  her  hand  cordially  to  Mr.  Clifford.  He  took  it,  and 
seemed  striving  to  speak  in  reply  to  those  pleasant, 
friendly  words  of  greeting ;  but  again  that  painfully  sad 
expression  overshadowed  his  face,  accompanied  this  time  by 
such  a  deadly  pallor  that  Ralph  looked  at  me  inquiringly, 
as  he  exclaimed, 

"  You  are  ill,  Mr.  Clifford — Victor,  order  a  glass  of 
water,  while  we  go  into  the  parlor,  please." 

But  he  would  not  go  in ;  said  it  was  only  a  sudden 
faintness  which  of  late  had  troubled  him,  and  after  drinking 
the  water  which  Victor  brought,  declared  himself  quite 
ready  to  ride  again ;  and  as  Rachel  and  my  father  came  up 
just  as  they  were  mounting,  no  further  allusion  was  made 
to  this  agitation,  for  there  was  an  intense  sadness  in  the 
stranger's  pale  face,  which  seemed  to  forbid  remark  or 
inquiry. 

I  was  surely  correct  in  describing  Pearl  as  Spanish 
looting,  for  she  was  completely  so ;  from  the  clear  rich 
brunette  of  her  complexion,  the  purple  blackness  of  her 
long  thick  hair,  the  starry  splendor  of  her  large  dark  eyes, 
to  the  delicate  beauty  of  her  hands  and  feet.  Strangers 
supposed  her  to  be  a  Spanish  Creole ;  while  we,  having 
grown  up  with  her,  thought  very  little  about  it,  save  that 
she  was  very  attractive,  and  we  loved  her  dearly.  Her 
beauty  was  such  a  strange  contrast  to  Ethel's,  that  it  was 
like  gazing  at  a  lovely  tableau  to  see  them  together. 

We  knew  there  was  some  little  romance  connected  with 


THE   PEARL   OF   ELGIN.  51 

my  uncle's  adoption  of  the  girl,  whom  he  loved  as  a 
daughter ;  but  as  he  was  never  particularly  communicative 
on  the  subject,  nothing  definite  regarding  the  circumstances 
had  reached  us,  save  that  when  the  Dunbars  removed  from 
Florida  to  Elgin,  Pearl  was  with  them  as  an  adopted  child 
of  my  uncle's,  who  had  no  daughter  of  his  own,  and  be 
stowed  upon  this  lovely  little  Creole  the  full  wealth  of  a 
father's  love ;  she  was  then  only  four  years  old,  and  had 
grown  up  with  us  a  near  and  dear  relation. 

Victor  Dunbar  was  not  regularly  handsome,  yet  pecu 
liarly  striking  in  his  appearance.  His  temper  was  haughty, 
and  reserved  to  coldness  with  strangers ;  when  provoked 
he  was  sometimes  unreasonable  and  violent.  Yet  those 
who  knew  him  well  could  not  fail  to  appreciate  his  noble, 
generous  nature,  and  highly  cultivated  intellect.  The  love 
he  had  ever  manifested  for  Pearl  amounted  almost  to  idol 
atry  ;  and  since  his  return  from  Germany,  where  his  edu 
cation  had  been  completed,  after  an  absence  of  three  years, 
it  was  whispered  that  his  affection,  as  a  man  of  twenty- 
three,  for  the  beautiful  girl  now  in  her  seventeenth  year, 
was  rather  less  brotherly  than  when  he  left  her,  a  little 
play-fellow  of  thirteen.  Ethel  frequently  said  it  made  her 
shudder  to  see  the  jealous  look  he  wore  when  Pearl  scam 
pered  off  on  horseback  with  Ralph  ;  for  she  was  too  full 
of  spirit,  too  eager  for  enjoyment,  to  heed  his  dark  moods, 
or  if  she  heeded,  too  proud  to  humor  them-  Ralph  was 
her  favorite  companion  for  racing  and  frolics  of  that  kind, 


52  WOODBURN. 

though  she  was  devoted  to  Victor  as  a  brother,  only  thus, 
we  knew,  and  trembled  at  the  thought  of  his  waking 
from  the  delusion  that  Pearl  might  be  to  him  more  than  a 
sister. 

To  a  lover  of  nature  there  could  scarcely  be  a  greater 
treat  than  to  ride  through  our  southern  forests,  just  when 
the  delicate  beauty  and  perfume  of  spring '  are  melting 
into  the  more  mature  vegetable  life  and  richer  fragrance 
of  summer,  as  was  the  case  on  that  lovely  evening  of  May 
20th,  when  we  rode  for  five  miles  through  the  deep,  still 
woods  beyond  Elgin,  on  our  way  to  the  cliffs.  Amid 
such  scenes  the  senses  of  excitable  persons  become  per 
fectly  intoxicated  under  the  exhilirating  influences  of  rapid 
motion  and  subtile  odors  generated  by  an  almost  tropical 
luxuriance  of  vegetation,  which  seems  draping  the  earth 
with  a  variegated  tapestry  of  vivid  green  and  varied 
bloom.  The  magnolia  was  then  in  its  full  glory — so  over- 
poweringly  sweet  that  one  blossom  possesses  too  much 
fragrance  for  a  parlor  vase — it  scents  the  outer  air  to 
perfection  when  blended,  as  at  that  season,  with  the 
bitter  aroma  of  the  wild  jasmines.  Such  times,  such 
scenes,  such  influences,  dwell  with  us,  and  in  after  years, 
perchance,  'neath  colder  skies,  they  charm  us  still 
strangely,  as  memory  yields,  again  at  our  bidding,  by 
a  mysterious  spell,  the  light,  odor,  beauty  of  those 
by-gone  hours  so  palpably,  that  our  delight  in  dwelling 
upon  them  is  as  real,  as  that  of  gazing  on  the  pictured 


THE    PEARL   OF   ELGIN.  53 

charms  of  some  beloved  face  now  lost  to  us  forever.  More 
northern  woodlands  are  neat  and  picturesque,  with  their 
tall  trees  and  soft  green  pastures — yet  they  never  yield 
the  same  varieties  of  wild  beauty,  that  living  panorama  of 
glowing  growth  and  bloom,  to  be  found  amid  the 
tangled  vine-draped,  moss-veiled  depths  of  our  far  south 
ern  forests. 

Victor  happened  that  evening  to  be  in  one  of  his  most 
amiable  moods,  and  as  Pearl  mounted,  without  waiting  for 
her  to  scamper  off  as  usual,  he  courteously  proposed  being 
my  escort,  remarking  that  it  fatigued  him  to  keep  up  with 
her  head  long  pace.  So  that  ride  is  associated  with  my 
haughty  cousin,  of  whom  I  was  very  fond,  and  very  proud 
of  having  him  to  ride  with  me,  and  thus  the  association  is 
far  from  disagreeable ;  indeed,  perhaps,  the  dewy,  dreamy 
splendor  of  that  moonlit  eve  would  have  left  less  haunting 
memories  had  Ralph  been  my  companion.  Yet  then  I 
was  a  child,  and  children  are  not  supposed  to  dream  over 
whom  they  may  chance  to  ride  or  walk  with  'mid  enchanting 
scenes,  'neath  beaming  skies,  but  children  of  fifteen  will 
indulge  their  fancies,  and  sometimes  such  memories  haunt 
a  life  time. 

On  our  return,  in  passing  an  old  place  called  "  The 
Glen,"  which  had  been  uninhabited  for  years,  we  were  not 
a  little  surprised  to  see  lights  shining  through  the  windows 
in  various  parts  of  the  house,  giving  unmistakable  evidence 
of  its  present  occupation,  which,  of  course,  put  all  the 


54  WOODBURN. 

females  of  our  party  on  the  qui  vive  to  know  who  our  new 
neighbor  might  be.  And  after  passing  we  appeared  by  one 
consent  to  check  our  speed  until  my  father  came  up, — 
making  him  laugh  heartily  by  calling  out  almost  in  the 
same  breath,  to  inquire  if  he  knew  who  had  bought  the 
Glen?  He  was,  however,  unable  to  gratify  our  curi 
osity  ;  had  heard  yesterday,  in  town,  that  the  place  was 
sold  to  a  new-comer,  but  could  not  ascertain  his  name,  so 
we  galloped  on  caring,  less  than  we  thought  about  the  Glen 
or  its  occupants. 

"  Come,  Pearl,  you  and  Victor  had  better  go  on  with 
us  to  Woodburn  and  spend  the  evening,"  said  Ethel  as  we 
neared  Elgin. 

"Mercy,  cousin  Ethel!  "  she  cried,  "do  you  want  to 
be  the  death  of  Aunt  Kate  ?  The  dear  old  soul,  is,  no 
doubt,  even  now  in  a  twitter  of  anxiety,  and  beginning  to 
torment  herself  into  the  belief  that  at  last  Frolic  has  veri 
fied  her  oracular  predictions  and  pitched  me  over  his  head  ! 
No,  no,  I  must  go  home ;  besides  Papa  has  been  absent 
all  day,  and  would  be  disappointed  not  to  see  me  in  the 
evening ;  Victor,  however,  can  go  on  if  he  feels  inclined, 
for  I  am  not  the  least  afraid  to  ride  up  alone." 

But  Victor  was  not  inclined,  and  while  opening  the 
gate  for  her,  I  heard  him  mutter,  "  Ride  up  alone !  Pearl, 
how  perfectly  absurd,  just  as  if  I  would  leave  you." 

Why  did  a  sick  feeling  of  disappointment  and  regret 
steal  over  me  as  they  left  us,  and  swept  swiftly  up,  through 


THE    PEARL   OF  ELGIN.  55 

the  shadows  of  that  dim  avenue?  Why  will  children 
dream  ? 

Turning  back  into  the  road,  as  we  emerged  from  a  dense 
shade  into  the  broad  open  moon-light,  a  dark  heavy  look 
ing  man  on  a  powerful  horse  dashed  past  us,  going  in  the 
direction  from  which  we  came ;  who,  though  riding  very 
rapidly,  jerked  up  his  horse  after  passing,  so  suddenly  as 
to  bring  the  animal  almost  down  upon  his  haunches,  and 
then  turning  deliberately  in  his  saddle,  watched  Ethel  and 
Mr.  Clifford  until  an  angle  in  the  road  hid  them  from  his 
view,  when  striking  spurs  to  his  horse  he  rode  on  at  the 
same  head-long  gait. 

Ralph  and  myself  were  behind,  having  lingered  at  the 
gate  a  moment,  so  we  had  full  opportunity  of  observing 
this  peculiar  proceeding.  "  Who  on  earth  was  that,"  I  said, 
"didjou  ever  see  him  before,  Ralph?" 

"  No,  he  must  be  a  stranger,"  replied  my  brother, 
"and  a  very  impertinent  one  too,  for  staring  at  sister 
Ethel  as  he  did." 

So  we  rode  on  little  dreaming  then,  though  we  knew 
afterwards,  that  the  old  house  which  had  excited  our 
curiosity  by  showing  signs  of  habitation,  and  the  dark 
horseman  who  turned  to  watch  my  sister,  were  closely  con 
nected,  for  that  stranger  was  master  of  the  Glen. 


CHAPTER     VI. 

DOCTOR    FOSTER. 

"  Too  well  thou  knowest  the  presence  of  that  man 

la  hateful  to  me  !"  LONGFELLOW. 

A  MONTH  had  past,  and  Mr.  Clifford  was  almost  as 
one  of  the  family — for  even  in  so  short  a  time  we  learned 
to  respect  him,  as  the  possessor  of  a  high  and  honorable 
nature,  to  admire  his  learning  and  many  accomplishments, 
and  to  prize  him  as  a  faithful  teacher  and  friend. 

Who  was  Mr.  Clifford  ?  we  all  wondered ;  and  why  was 
such  a  man  willing  to  endure  the  drudgery  of  teaching  ? 
The  refined  reserve  for  which  he  was  so  remarkable,  for 
bade  questions ;  and  even  Rachel  Thorn,  with  all  her 
sly  manoeuvring — after  making  a  confident  boast  to  more 
than  one  of  the  family,  that  she  was  determined  to  fathom 
the  mystery  of  his  life — had  never  dared  to  approach  him 
directly  upon  the  subject,  and  was  obliged  to  confess  herself 
foiled  in  every  attempt  to  surprise  him  into  giving  some 
clue  which  might  enlighten  her.  He  seldom  joined  the 
family  unless  invited  to  do  so,  and  remained,  between 
school  hours,  so  constantly  within  his  own  apartments,  that 


DOCTOR  FOSTER.  57 

at  last  my  father  (half-provoked)  chided  him  with  being 
unsocial,  and  begged,  as  an  especial  personal  favor,  that, 
unless  particularly  engaged,  he  would  make  it  a  rule  to 
join  our  family  circle,  after  tea,  in  the  parlor.  He  looked 
gratified,  promised  to  do  so,  and  for  several  evenings  pre 
vious  to  the  date  of  this  chapter,  we  had  the  gratification 
of  his  society  until  bed-time. 

My  sister  was  a  fine  musician  ;  sang  delightfully,  accom 
panying  herself  with  great  expression  either  on  the  piano 
or  harp.  Indeed,  I  have  never  heard  her  singing  surpassed 
by  an  amateur".  Mr.  Clifford  (who  had  never  heard  her 
until  this  occasion)  stood  as  one  entranced,  and  when  she 
ceased,  his  expressions  of  admiration  were  so  earnest,  yet 
evidently  so  sincere,  that  Ethel  blushed — though  more,  it 
occurred  to  me,  under  the  eloquent  influence  of  those  mild, 
sad  eyes,  than  from  anything  he  said,  for  she  was  accus 
tomed  to  compliments,  and  heeded  them  less  than  any 
beautiful  woman  I  ever  saw. 

Rachel  Thorn  had  marked  that  look,  and  the  felush  it 
awakened,  for  her  thin  lips  curled  sneeringly,  as  she 
remarked : 

"  Why,  Ethel !  what  a  famous  Prima  Donna  you  would 
make,  blushing  so  divinely ;  for,  if  the  commendation  of 
one  person  calls  up  such  a  becoming  color,  what  might  not 
be  expected  from  the  applause  of  thousands  ?" 

Never  before  had  I  seen  my  sister  so  justly  irritated  at 
Rachel's  spiteful  remarks.  The  deep  color  faded  from  her 


58  WOODBURN. 

\ 

cheek  so  suddenly,  that  the  change  was  startling,  and  I 
almost  dreaded  her  reply.  But  stinging,  cutting,  withering 
as  it  was,  the  words  were  uttered  deliberately,  and  without 
any  evidence  of  temper  in  her  voice. 

"  If,  by  any  strange  chance,  I  should  ever  go  upon  the 
stage,"  she  said,  "my  long  and  constant  association  with 
such  a  perfect  actress  as  yourself,  Rachel,  could  scarcely 
fail  to  prove  a  great  advantage,  for,  though  not  particularly 
proficient  in  the  art  of  blushing,  there  are  other  and  more 
important  points  to  be  studied,  in  which  you  excel." 

There  was  a  look  of  triumph  in  Mr.  Clifford's  eyes,  as, 
while  carelessly  replacing  some  sheets  of  music  in  the  case, 
he  glanced  at  Ethel,  with  a  meaning  smile,  which  seemed 
to  say:  "You  have  conquered  again,  and  proudly,  too." 

Rachel  fairly  shivered  with  rage,  but  she  knew  how  far 
to  go,  and  not  daring  to  provoke  my  sister  further,  bit  her 
lips,  and  was  silent ;  while,  eager  to  change  the  subject,  I 
expressed  a  positive  conviction  that  Mr.  Clifford  could  sing, 
and  begged  him  to  try  a  duet  with  Ethel.  He  consented, 
and  they  sang  '•'•Hear  me,  Norma"  so  wonderfully  well,  his 
voice  being  rich  and  full,  and  according  so  finely  with  her's, 
that  even  my  father  laid  down  the  newspaper,  in  which  he 
had  previously  been  absorbed,  to  applaud  them. 

"Bravo!"  he  cried;  "why  you  sing  that,  absolutely, 
as  if  in  the  habit  of  practising  it  together.  Fine !  fine  ! 
we  must  have  it  over  to-morrow  evening  at  Elgin,  where, 
you  know,  we  are  all  to  take  tea ;  but,  by  Jove,  now  I 


DOCTOR    FOSTER.  59 

come  to  think  the  matter  over,  no  one  happens  to  know  it 
yet,  save  myself,  for  I  forgot,  until  this  moment,  the  invi 
tation  entrusted  to  me  by  good  Aunt  Kate  before  dinner. 
She  was  on  her  way  here,  this  morning,  when  I  overtook 
the  carriage,  just  as  that  heavy  thunder  shoi(er  came  up ; 
so,  as  the  clouds  looked  very  threatening,  she  requested  me 
to  deliver  the  message,  or  rather  invitation,  and  turned 
back.     Just  think  how  near  I  came  forgetting  it  entirely  ! 
and,  bless  me !  how    righteously  indignant  the  dear  old 
lady   would  have  been,  for  she  was  very  particular  in 
repeating  'all  the  family,'    'remember  cousin  Percy,  all, 
especially  Mr.  Clifford,  for  I  want  him  to  help  entertain 
our  stranger  guests,'  and  who  do  you  think  these  stranger 
guests  may  be  ?     Now,  don't  all  guess  at  once,  for  I  know 
you  girls  are  all  devoured  with  curiosity." 

"No,  we  're  not  a  bit;  for  it's  easy  enough  to  guess 
one,  and  the  other  nobody  cares  about,"  I  replied,  exult- 
ingly,'  putting  on  the  spectacles  my  father  had  just  taken 
off,  and  looking  at  him,  saucily,  across  the  table.  Then, 
leaning  over,  I  whispered,  "It  is  none  other  than  our  new 
neighbor  at  the  Glen,  is'nt  it,  now,  you  dear,  precious,  for 
getful  old  darling?"  And  again,  (more  coaxingly,) 
"  Don't  tell  on  me  if  I've  guessed  wrong,  please." 

"  But,  you're  right,  you  rattle-cap ;  she  wants  us  to 
meet  Dr.  Foster,  of  the  Glen,  and  our  new  pastor,  Mr. 
Clare,  who  is  now  staying  at  Elgin  on  trial, — that  is,  if  he 
likes  the  neighborhood,  and  the  neighborhood  like  him,  he 


60  WOODBURN. 

is  to  remain  among  us.     So,  now  having  relieved  my  mind 
from  the  burden  of  our  most  excellent  cousin's  invitation, 
taking  its  acceptance  for  granted,  I  shall  retire ;  so  good 
night  to  you  all,"  and  my  father  went  off  to  bed,  leaving 
us  to  discuss  the  Elgin  tea-party,  which  we  did,  wonder 
ing — as  we  had  wondered  about  Mr.   Clifford — what  the 
new  minister  was  like,  etc.,  etc.,  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  Dr.  Foster  must  be  rich,  or  he  could  not  afford  to  buy 
such  a  property  as  the  Glen :  and  rather  inclining  to  the 
belief  that  Mr.   Clare  was  hum-drum, — such  being   the 
style  of  parsons  almost  constantly  on  hand,  from  time  to 
time,  at  Elgin ;  for  my  uncle  seemed  to  pity,  and  always 
befriended,  individuals  of  the  cloth,  or  half-starved  artists 
and  school  teachers,  so  unfortunately  uninteresting,  that 
less  charitable  people  would  not  be  bored  with  them.     So, 
taking  it  for  granted  that  the  present  subject — whose  merits 
we  would  shortly  be  called  upon  to  judge — must  be  one  of 
this  stereotyped  class,  I  asserted  it  as  my  firm  conviction, 
that  said  Clare  was  a  perfect  poke,  who  would  mumble  out 
an  everlasting  grace  over  his  bread-and-butter,  so  tow  that 
no  one  could  hear  it — and  then  talk  very  loud,  and  a  great 
deal — through  his  nose.     Neither  could  I  resist  this  tempt 
ing  opportunity  of  telling  Mr.  Clifford  what  Ralph  had 
said  about  him  before  his  arrival — hoping  I  would  be  as 
much  mistaken  as  my  brother  had  been — which  afforded 

A  *-^  ^^^^  V 

the  subject  of  said  ogrcish  fancy  .sketch  great  amusement, 

^ 


DOCTOR  FOSTER.  61 

much  to  the  discomfiture  of  the  young  artist,  who  could 
not  be  induced  to  venture  an  opinion  of  Mr.  Clare. 

The  next  evening,  at  eight  o'clock,  we  were  all  assembled 
in  the  drawing-room,  at  Elgin,  waiting  for  the  new  comers — 
as  Mr.  Clare  (having  been  out  late  to  dinner)  had  not 
made  his  appearance.  Dr.  Foster  was,  doubtless,  too 
fashionable  to  come  early.  So  I  shall  seize  the  little  inter 
val  before  their  arrival,  to  describe,  briefly,  the  older  mem 
bers  of  the  Elgin  household. 

Pearl's  adopted  father,  Horatio  Dunbar,  was  an  eccentric, 
humorous,  generous  Scotchman,  some  two  or  three  years 
my  father's  senior  ;  rather  below  the  medium  height,  with 
bright  black  eyes,  whose  quizical  expressive  twinkle  at 
times,  when  he  was  telling  one  of  his,funny  stories,  was 
enough  to  make  the  soberest  person  laugh.  Being  per 
fectly  bald,  he  wore  a  black  wig,  and  one  of  his  favorite 
jokes  was,  when  there  happened  to  be  some  very  intimate 
friend  with  the  family,  to  jerk  it  off  suddenly  while  they 
were  looking  in  another  direction,  and  then  laugh  over 
their  astonishment  at  seeing  a  stranger  in  his  place :  for 
the  change  transformed  him  so  completely  that,  for  a  mo 
ment,  it  could  not  fail  to  deceive  even  those  on  the  most 
familiar  terms  with  him,  when  they  saw  it  for  the  first 
time.  He  was  hospitable  almost  to  a  fault ;  for  unreason 
able  persons  frequently  abused  his  generosity ;  and,  as  I 
have  said,  there  was  generally  one  or  more  itinerant  clergy 
men,  teachers,  in  short,  specimens  of  every  species  of  un- 


62 


WOODBURN. 


fortunate  individuals  who  happened  to  be  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  and  for  the  time  being  without  a  home,  at  Elgin. 
He  had  been  a  widower  since  Victor's  early  boyhood,  and 
Aunt  Kate  being  called  on  to  take  charge  of  the  child  when 
his  mother  died,  ever  after  remained  with  my  uncle,  as  he 
had  never  married  again.  She  was  a  charming  exception 
to  that  general  rule  which,  alas,  too  often  most  justly  stig 
matizes  the  sisterhood  of  old  maids — (though  outwardly 
such  paragons  of  methodical  piety, — disinterested  workers 
of  charity,  and  all  good  works,) — as  being,  inwardly,  mov 
ing  receptacles  of  gossip — the  very  scavengers  of  society ; 
feeding  upon  scandal  greedily  as  vultures  upon  a  dead  car 
cass  ;  digesting  their  food,  and  getting  up  a  keener  appe 
tite  for  more  by  the  free  use  of  such  tonics  as  envy,  hatred 
and  malice !  Aunt  Kate  was  far  from  being  one  of  those ; 
and  except  for  a  certain  primness  in  dress  and  manner, 
(those  invariable  attendants  on  spinsterism,)  no  one  would 
have  supposed  her  to  have  been  an  old  maid.  To  a  deter 
mined  disposition,  governed  by  a  high  code  of  religious  and 
moral  principles,  an  almost  stern  sense  of  right  and  wrong, 
she  added  such  an  unselfish  regard  for  the  pleasure  and 
happiness  of  others,  such  a  tender  sympathy  for  and  with 
young  persons,  in  all  their  joys  and  sorrows,  that  Victor 
and  Pearl  loved  her  as  a  mother,  while  all  the  young  people 
in  our  neighborhood  regarded  a  party  at  Elgin  as  a  perfect 
treat — none  seeming  to  view  Aunt  Kate,  (for  so  she  was 
generally  called,)  as  venerable  maidens  are  apt  to  be  viewed, 


DOCTOR   FOSTER.  63 

by  juveniles,  in  the  light  of  a  severe  judge  upon  all  their 
innocent  frolics.  They  said  the  reason  of  her  being  so 
good  and  agreeable  was  because  she  was  Scotch,  and  I  do 
verily  believe  that  Scotch  old  maids  are  better  than  other 
old  maids ;  and  Aunt  Kate  was  the  dearest  and  best  spe 
cimen  of  a  Scotch  spinster. 

But  here  comes  Mr.  Clare,  at  whom  we  must  take  a  look, 
for  Pearl,  though  amused  at  my  ideas  of  his  appearance, 
etc.,  declares  he  is  quite  the  reverse — fine-looking,  and 
agreeable.  Light  hair,  fair,  with  deep,  thoughtful  grey  eyes, 
a  rather  slight  figure,  though  tall,  and  not  ungraceful,  to 
gether  with  perfect  ease  of  manner  and  a  full,  melodious 
voice  in  conversation,  presented  a  combination  of  attrac 
tions,  which  we  were  totally  unprepared  to  find  concentrated 
in  the  person  of  one  of  the  divine  fraternity  entertained  at 
Elgin.  He  looked  twenty-five,  and  his  whole  appearance 
was  altogether  prepossessing — so  much  so  that  I  could  not 
help  remarking  to  Victor,  in  a  whisper,  as  he  entered — 

"  Why,  what  a  charming  looking  person  !  I  expected  to 
see  a  regular  stoop-shouldered  poke,  like  our  friend  Mr. 
Baldwin,  for  instance,  who  is  too  dyspeptic,  you  know,  to 
eat  butter  with  his  mush." 

"  Ah,  indeed !"  he  replied,  with  almost  a  sneer,  as  his 
dark  brow  lowered,  "then  you  must  be  astonished  at  the 
sight  of  this  lady-killer,  for  Pearl,  and  even  Aunt  Kate, 
go  into  ecstacies  of  admiration  over  his  charms,  personal 
and  mental ;  so  he  must  be  something  extra,  I  suppose ; 


64  WOODBURN. 

but  then,  you  women  generally  have  a  weakness  for  gentle 
men  of  the  cloth.  Heigh-ho  !  I  wish  I  had  studied  divinity 
at  home,  instead  of  going  off  to  Germany  !"  and  he  tried 
to  smile,  as  I  answered  quickly : 

"Fie,  Vic!  the  idea  of  your  being  a  preacher! — why, 
you're  not  good  enough — not  patient  enough  to  teach  the 
gospel.  But  I  do  really  believe  good-looking,  agreeable 
men,  are  just  as  jealous  of  each  other's  attractions  as  the 
softer  sex.  Hark !  there's  the  door-bell — Dr.  Foster,  no 
doubt.  Have  you  ever  seen  him  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Victor;  "he  is  a  great,  rough  bear  of  a 
fellow — vulgar-looking — ugh  !  I  wish  father  had  never 
given  him  the  entre  at  Elgin.  But  you  know  that  almost 
universal  hospitality  which  induces  him  to  take  in  many, 
(by  some  of  whom  he  is  taken  in  in  return,)  and  if  I  mis 
take  not,  the  case  in  question  is  to  be  a  striking  illustration 
of  his  misplaced  confidence,  But  it  seems  this  new  doctor 
is  to  be  our  neighborhood  physician,  and  hence  my  father's 
fancy  for  inviting  him  here  to-night ;  but  judge  for  your 
self;"  and  as  he  spoke  Dr.  Foster  entered  the  parlor. 

I  have  never  seen  such  a  queer  mixture  of  gentility  and 
vulgarity  as  were  presented  in  the  personal  appearance  of 
that  man.  His  dress  was  unexceptionable — no  flash,  no 
glitter,  which  so  often  marks  the  parvenu.  His  hands  and 
feet  were  delicate,  particularly  so  for  a  man  of  such  heavy 
appearance,  and  showed  conclusively  that  his  flesh  was  the 
result  of  indulged  appetite,  or  sedentary  habits,  perhaps 


DOCTOR  FOSTER.  65 

both,  for  he  looked  sensual,  especially  his  mouth,  the 
coarseness  of  which  even  a  heavy  beard  failed  to  conceal. 
To  light-gray  eyes,  (which,  in  their  cold  and  furtive  ex 
pression,  were  not  unlike  Rachel  Thorn's,)  a  fair  skin  and 
light  eye-lashes,  he  added  very  dark,  almost  black,  hair, 
beard  and  brows — a  curious  combination,  and  the  tout  en 
semble  was  far  from  attractive. 

So  soon  as  the  momentary  silence  and  restraint,  which 
almost  invariably 'follow  the  introduction  of  one  person  to  a 
number,  had  worn  off,  Dr.  Foster  seated  himself  by  Ethel, 
and  commenced  conversation  in  a  free  and  easy  style, 
which  we  at  once  observed  was  anything  but  agreeable  to 
my  stately  sister,  who  bit  her  lip,  'and  glanced  at  me 
with  an  almost  provoked  look,  as  Mr.  Clifford,  with  whom 
she  had  been  talking  when  the  doctor  came  up,  walked 
off,  not  wishing  to  interfere  with  the  conversation  of  a 
stranger. 

I  fancied  that  both  observed  his  look  of  annoyance — for 
Mr.  Clifford  smiled,  with  a  half  amused  expression — while 
the  new  comer  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair,  and  then  com 
menced  speaking,  in  rather  an  abrupt  manner,  about  meet 
ing  her  out  riding  with  a  party  shortly  after  his  arrival  at 
the  Glen,  asked  if  she  was  fond  of  the  exercise,  etc.  ?  And 
at  last  succeeded  in  fixing  her  attention  for  a  while  by 
talking  of  flowers ;  the  fine  collection  he  was  making  for  a 
conservatory  ;  some  rare  varieties  of  cactus,  japonicas,  etc., 
he  had  brought  from  abroad,  for  a  love  of  flowers  from  her 


66  WOODBURN. 

earliest  childhood  had  been  uppermost  in  Ethel's  apprecia 
tion  of  the  beautiful. 

Mr.  Clifford  and  Pearl  were  the  best  of  friends,  and  his 
manner  towards  her  ever  seemed  unaccountably  tender — 
for  though  after  their  first  few  meetings,  that  agitation  to 
which  I  have  referred  as  so  remarkable,  had  in  some 
measure  worn  off,  yet  the  sad  look  he  often  bent  upon 
her,  told  of  an  inward  struggle  to  subdue  some  painful 
recollections  awakened  by  her  presence,  and  even  Victor — 
who  was  jealous  of  his  adopted  sister's  partiality  for  all 
mankind,  save  himself  and  his  father,  could  not  object  to 
the  gentle  considerate  care  with  which  Mr.  Clifford  from 
the  first  watched  over  his  high-spirited  pupil — nor  to  the 
cordial,  grateful  manner  with  which  she  treated  him. 

They  stood  talking  together  within  our  hearing,  while 
Dr.  Foster  was  with  my  sister,  and  I  overheard  Pearl  say, 
"Oh!  doesn't  cousin  Ethel  look  too  superbly  to-night, 
that  pearl-colored  silk  is  so  becoming?  " 

He  glanced  over  at  the  subject  of  her  remark,  and  then 
replied,  "Yes,  she  always  looks  peerless,  and  even  more 
so  just  now  than  usual ;  it  strikes  me,  from  being  in  contrast 
with  that  new  doctor — who  I  must  confess  does  not  impress 
me  favorably — rather  than  from  any  peculiar  becoming- 
ness  of  dress.  What  do  you  think  of  Dr.  Foster,  Miss 
Pearl?" 

"  Think  of  him  !  Why,  Mr.  Clifford,  I  perfectly  detest 
the  man's  looks,  and  hate  to  see  him  chatting  to  my  cousin 


DOCTOR  FOSTER.  67 

in  that  free  and  easy  style;   he  looks  sly  and  deceitful 
about  the  eyes,  like  Rachel  Thorn ;  don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  Oh  !  don't  draw  comparisons,  my  dear  pupil,  and  try 
to  think  as  well  as  you  can  of  Miss  Thorn,  for  she  is  an 
orphan,  and  entitled  to  much  consideration  and  kindness  on 
that  account.  Yet,  I  do  agree,  with  you  regarding  the 
sinister  appearance  of  our  new  neighbor,  though  appear 
ances  are  sometimes  deceiving ;  let  us  hope  they  may  prove 
so  in  this  case,  and  that  we  may  be  agreeably  disappointed 
in  the  stranger." 

"My  dear  master,"  replied  Pearl,  playfully,  "do  you 
expect  me  to  be  as  considerate  and  merciful  in  my  judg 
ments  of  people  as  you  are  ?  Impossible  ?  My  likings 
and  dislikings  are  too  strong,  yet  humbly  do  I  acknowledge 
myself  most  culpable  in  giving  such  free  expression  to 
opinions  which  might  just  as  well  be  locked  up  here  " — 
placing  her  hand  on  her  heart — "yet,  don't  think  me  in 
corrigible,  for,  indeed,  I  am  greatly  improved  since  you 
came;  don't  laugh  now,  for  they  all  say  so;  "  and  moving 
up  to  the  table  where  Victor  and  myself  were  looking  over 
some  engravings,  she  appealed  to  us  for  a  confirmation  of 
this  assertion — obtaining  which — she  commenced  again  upon 
the  doctor,  mimicking  his  self-assurance  so  inimitably  that 
even  Mr.  Clifford  was  forced  to  laugh ;  and  then  she  said, 
"It's  past  endurance!  he  shall  not  talk  one  minute  longer 
to  cousin  Ethel,  for  I'm  going  over  to  make  her  sing." 
And  from  the  ready  way  in  which  the  proposition  was 


68  WOODBURN. 

acceded  to,  we  had  no  reason  to  imagine  that  my  sister 
was  particularly  entranced,  even  by  the  doctor's  floral 
rhapsodies, — who  was  officious  when  Ethel  went  to  the 
piano,  asking  for  one  operatic  song  after  another,  in  a  style 
that  was  quite  bewildering — nor  did  he  subside  in  the 
slightest  degree,  until  Mr.  Clifford,  by  request,  came 
up  to  sing  with  her — when  the  doctor  sat  sulking  near 
by,  and  -looking,  as  Pearl  said,  "  unutterable  things  "  the 
while. 

Dr.  Foster  evidently  avoided  conversation  with  Rachel 
Thorn,  and  several  times  during  the  evening  when  they 
happened  to  be  thrown  together,  he  turned  away,  as  if 
abstracted,  and  sought  another  part  of  the  room.  I  could 
see  she  felt  cut  at  his  slighting  her,  and  amused  myself  as 
we  drove  home  by  inquiring  her  opinion  of  this  odd  look 
ing  stranger. 

"Why,  he  is  a  perfect  vulgarian,"  she  replied,  "and  I 
am  astonished  at  Ethel  for  allowing  him  to  be  so  much 
with  her." 

"Then,  Rachel,"  said  my  sister,  "I  am  glad  that  he 
did  not  give  you  an  opportunity  of  snubbing  'him,  for  in 
our  uncle's  house  to  a  stranger  guest,  that  would  have  been 
rude,  so,  as  it  seems,  I  had  more  forbearance ;  it  is  fortunate 
for  the  credit  of  the  family  he  inflicted  hinfself  upon  me 
instead  of  you." 

Rachel  tried  to  laugh,  but  was  evidently  annoyed  at 


DOCTOR  FOSTER.  69 

being  thus  suddenly  extinguished  by  her  adversary's  ready 
repartee. 

Thus  ended  the  evening  at  Elgin,  which  we  lightly  dis 
cussed,  little  dreaming  how  important  a  part  those  two 
strangers  were  destined  to  play  in  a  rapid  succession  of 
coming  events. 

That  night.  I  dreamed  a  vivid,  wild  dream — in  which 
Ethel  seemed  standing  alone,  upon  a  black  and  tottering 
bridge,  whose  broken  arches  spanned  a  fearful  abyss,  from 
which  there  came  a  sound  of  angry,  rushing  water.  Pale 
and  helpless,  she  was  forced  to  cross — and  clung  de 
spairingly  (while  advancing,  step  by  step,)  to  the  trembling 
balustrade.  Then  I  saw  her  shrink  back,  horror-stricken ; 
for,  up  from  out  that  frightful  gulf,  on  to  the  rotten  abut 
ments,  over  the  balustrades,  along  the  slimy  stones  and 
boards,  hissing,  came  an  army  of  vipojrs — and  while  she 
clung  to  the  bridge  for  support,  lo!  a  hideous  serpent 
coiled  about  her  arm  ;  when,  suddenly,  from  the  other  side 
of  this  chasm,  bounding  recklessly  over  the  slippery  bridge, 
Mr.  Clifford  appeared.  Heedless  that  it  tottered  under  his 
weight — heedless  that  countless  vipers  were  hissing  at 
him — heedless  of  the  gloom  above,  below,  on  he  sped, 
swiftly,  to  where  my  sister  stood  petrified  with  horror,  the 
slimy  reptile  clinging  to  her  bare,  white  arm.  To  seize 
and  tear  it  off,  and  then — catching  her  in  his  arms — to 
speed  swiftly  over  that  broken,  crumbling  ruin — seemed 
the  work  of  a  moment ;  and  while  they  gained  a  rock  on 


70  WOODBURN. 

the  other  side,  I  woke  with  a  cry,  as  the  whole  arch, 
bristling  with  serpents, — whose  hissing  had  made  me  cold 
and  sick  with  terror  through  that  dreadful  dream — tum 
bled,  with  an  echoing  crash,  into  those  yawning  deeps  of 
rushing  water. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

RACHEL     THORN. 

"  Ah !  that  deceit  should  steal  such  gentle  shapes, 
And  with  a  virtuous  visor  hide  deep  vice !"  SUAKSPEAEB. 

X 

RACHEL  was  very  clever — and  progressed  in  her  German 
with  a  rapidity  which  appeared  to  astonish  and  please  Mr. 
Clifford,  whose  interest  (we  afterwards  found)  she  had 
excited,  by  informing  him  (in  confidence,  for  the  time,) 
that  it  was  her  intention,  by  hard  study,  to  fit  herself  for 
teaching — being  determined,  when  quite  competent,  to  seek 
a  situation  as  governess,  for  she  was  too  proud — now  that 
my  father  no  longer  required  her  services — to  remain  per 
manently  at  Woodburn,  and  would  have  left  long  before, 
but  until  now,  never  had  an  opportunity  of  improving 
herself  sufficiently  to  undertake  the  task  of  teaching.  All 
of  which  Mr.  Clifford,  of  course,  believed — it  was  quite 
natural  he  should — thereby  increasing  the  inducement  he 
had  to  instruct  her  as  thoroughly  and  perfectly  as  possible, 
both  in  drawing  and  German. 

In  the  course  of  these  instructions,  however,  he  failed  to 
perceive — for  a  long  time,  at  least, — what  was  perfectly 


72  WOODBURN. 

evident  to  all  lookers-on,  viz. :  that  Ralph's  prediction  was 
verified  most  completely — for  Rachel  Thorn,  while  thus 
acquiring  knowledge,  had — lost  her  heart.  Neither  did 
we  fail  to  observe  how  entirely  innocent  he  was  of  all 
design  to  enthrall  the  affections  of  his  wily  pupil ;  for — 
apart  from  the  necessary  courtesy  and  attention  to  be 
expected  from  a  teacher — he  never  gave  her  the  slightest 
cause  to  suppose  herself,  for  one  moment,  the  subject  of  his 
thoughts — and  nothing,  save  vanity,  and  the  blind  love 
which  possessed  her,  could  ever  have  induced  that  clever 
girl  to  believe  possible  the  impossible  task  she  had  under 
taken,  of  trying  to  win  Mr.  Clifford — futile  and  absurd  as 
the  delusion  which  might  lure  a  little  child  to  seek  for  fairy 
treasures  by  traveling  to  the  end  of  the  rainbow  ! 

The  growing  friendship  between  Mr.  Clifford  and  my 
sister,  excited  in  her  an  uneasy  jealousy ;  and  though  fully 
impressed — as  I  feel  assured  she  was  then — that  he  would 
never  aspire  to  Ethel's  hand — a  visible  effect  of  that  jeal 
ousy  was  to  make  Rachel  hate  the  subject  of  it  more  than 
ever  for  her  superior  attractions,  and  by  artful  manoeu- 
vrings,  to  undermine  the  exalted  opinion  he  entertained  of  my 
sister's  character — hoping,  that  when  disenchanted  with 
one  whom  he  must  necessarily  worship  at  a  distance,  she 
might  eventually  succeed  in  winning  him  by  determined 
devotion. 

Thus  it  was  matters  stood,  when,  by  going  a  step  too 
far,  she  loosened  the  mask  which  was  destined,  ere  very 


RACHEL   THORN.  73 

long,  to  fall  off,  revealing  to  us  the  dark  duplicity  of  her 
nature  in  all  its  revolting  deformity. 

Upon  a  certain  gloomy,  drizzling  Saturday,  in  August, 
I  was  sitting  near  the  drawing-room  window  with  Ethel, 
sewing,  and  Kachel  in  another  part  of  the  room  at  a 
table,  translating  her  German  lesson  for  Monday — who 
kept  calling  on  Mr.  Clifford  for  assistance  until  we  were 
both  provoked  at  her,  and  could  not  help  wondering  at  his 
endless  amount  of  patience — when  a  negro  boy  rode  up  to 
the  door,  with  a  basket  in  his  hand,  which,  shortly  after 
wards,  Bristol  brought  in,  and,  handing  it  to  my  sister, 
said  :  "  From  the  Glen,  Miss  Ethel,  and  the  boy  has  gone ; 
said  there  was  no  answer." 

I  could  not  help  exclaiming  when  the  cover  was  re 
moved,  ' '  Oh  !  what  superb  flowers !  did  you  ever  see  such 
cactus  ?  And  here  is  a  card,  '  For  Mrs.  Linton,  with  Dr. 
Foster's  compliments.'  Mr.  Clifford,  Rachel,  do  come  and 
look  at  them.  I  declare  now  it  is  really  kind  in  the  doctor, 
isn't  it?" 

My  sister  could  not  help  admiring  the  gift,  and  yet  she 
looked  annoyed,  as  they  rose,  attracted  by  my  exclamation, 
and  came  across  the  room  to  look  at  the  flowers — and  while 
sewing  away  more  rapidly  than  usual,  she  said  : 

"  They  are  certainly  very  beautiful,  yet  I  scarcely  think 
that  my  limited  acquaintance  with  the  donor  warrants  his 
sending  me  a  present — even  of  flowers" — and  then  she 
looked  up  at  Mr.  Clifford,  to  see, what  impression  it  had 


74  WOODBURN. 

produced  upon  him,  with  such  an  inquiring  glance,  that  he 
replied,  as  if  to  a  question  : 

"  I  believe  it  is  considered  entirely  admissible  every 
where,  and  even  by  the  most  fastidious  people,  for  a  gen 
tleman  when  he  has  visited  a  lady  even  once,  to  send  her 
flowers,  and  quite  as  admissible  for  her  to  receive  them ; 
and  I  believe  Dr.  Foster  has  been  here,  not  only  as  a 
physician,  but  as  a  visitor,  on  several  occasions ;  indeed, 
the  propriety  of  such  a  delicate  attention  as  this,  Mrs. 
Linton,  it  strikes  me,  can  scarcely  be  questioned;  perhaps," 
he  added,  smiling,  "if  the  doctor  were  a  greater  favorite, 
his  offering  might  be  more  acceptable." 

Ethel's  color  rose  as  their  eyes  met,  and  then  the  im 
pression  first  dawned  upon  me,  that  had  Mr.  Clifford  been 
the  donor  she  would  not  thus  have  hesitated  as  to  the  pro 
priety  of  accepting  this  exquisite  gift — perhaps  he  thought 
so  too — at  all  events  his  eyes  rested  on  her  for  a  moment, 
with  an  expression  of  lingering,  yearning  tenderness  I 
had  never  seen  there  before,  and  which  appeared  to  move 
her  strangely — for  the  color  deepened  and  spread  until 
even  neck  and  brow  were  suffused  with  that  burning  blush. 

Rachel  did  not  see  it,  at  which  (while  scarcely  defining 
the  reason  why)  I  was  pleased — for,  after  glancing  at  the 
flowers  with  a  queer,  provoked  expression,  she  remarked 
sneeringly,  "Dear  me!  how  touchingly  lover-like,  surely 
cousin  Ethel,  the  elegant  doctor  must  be  smitten  with  you," 
and  then  returned  to  her  German. 


EACHEL   THORN.  75 

No  one  noticed  the  remark,  for  Mr.  Clifford  and  Ethel 
were  evidently  thinking  of  other  things,  and  I  was  too 
much  absorbed  by  the  new  train  of  thought  arising  from 
that  eloquent  look,  to  heed  her  spiteful  words. 

My  sister  at  last,  after  struggling — vainly  as  I  thought 
— to  recover  her  wonted  composure,  suddenly  put  aside 
her  work,  and  saying,  pleasantly  to  Mr.  Clifford,  that  as 
the  flowers  were  not  to  blame,  and  stood  there  as  it  were 
accepted,  she  would  at  least  put  them  in  water,  and  left 
the  room  to  do  so.  Volunteering  to  get  her  some  sprigs  of 
geranium  and  myrtle  to  mix  with  those  gorgeous  cactus 
and  azaleas,  I  threw  on  my  hat  and  mantle,  and  ran  into 
the  garden  for  them. 

As  I  returned,  seeing  the  side  door  of  the  conservatory 
open,  I  went  in  there  (instead  of  going  round  the  house) 
as  it  was  still  drizzling  with  rain,  and  the  conservatory 
(which  communicated  with  the  parlor,)  ran  back  of  it  a 
considerable  distance  towards  the  garden,  and  therefore  it 
was  the  nearest  way  into  the  bouse.  Upon  entering,  I 
caught  sight  of  a  very  delicate  green  vine,  (the  leaves  of 
which  were  extremely  beautiful,)  that  hung  in  festoons 
over  the  enormous  pyramidical  stand  on  which  the  plants 
were  arranged,  and  upon  the  first  few  shelves  I  quickly 
climbed,  to  gather  some  sprigs  of  it  to  mix  in  with  Ethel's 
flowers.  While  standing  up  thus,  a  considerable  distance 
from  the  floor,  just  in  the  act  of  pulling  them,  the  parlor 
door  leading  into  the  conservatory  opened,  and  I  heard 


76  WOODBURN. 

Rachel  say,  "  Come  in  here  a  moment,  Mr.  Clifford,  I  want 
to  show  you  such  a  curious  air-plant  in  bloom ;  look  there, 
just  over  your  head,  to  the  right." 

"That  is  singularly  beautiful,"  he  replied,  "  and  very 
rare.  I  wonder  where  Mrs.  Linton  got  it?"  For  the 
green-house  was  Ethel's  own  domain. 

I  kept  perfectly  still,  thinking  they  would  walk  round, 
and  be  so  astonished  to  see  me  there,  but  they  were  stand 
ing  still  near  the  air-plant  as  Rachel  said,  with  a  great 
over-grown  sigh  : 

' '  Poor,  dear  Basil  brought  that  to  Ethel  when  he  came 
on  from  New  York,  many  years  ago.  Oh  !  how  devoted 
he  was  to  her,  my  darling  brother,  but  not  more  so  than 
she  was  to  him.  I  suppose  you  know  that  they  were  en 
gaged,  Mr.  Clifford,  that  my  uncle  objected  (on  account  of 
Basil's  poverty)  and  at  last  induced  Ethel  to  break  off 
with  him  to  marry  Arthur  Linton,  who  was  supposed  to 
be  a  fortune  !  " 

She  spoke  rapidly,  as  «if  afraid  of  being  interrupted  be 
fore  the  tale  was  told,  and  when  Mr.  Clifford  answered  : 

"No,  Miss  Thorn,  I  was  not  even  aware  that  you  had  a 
brother,"  she  rejoined  quickly  : 

"  It  broke  his  heart,  drove  him  to  desperation  ;  he  left 
us  suddenly  to  go  none  knew  whither,  and  from  that  time 
has  he  been  lost  to  me  as  if  dead.  Ethel  never  loved  any 
one  but  Basil ;  she  never  cared  for  her  husband,  having 
married  him  to  please  my  uncle,  and  because  he  was  rich. 


RACHEL   THORN.  •  77 

The  last  words  were  spoken  as  they  walked  back  into  the 
parlor,  and  Rachel  shut  the  door  after  her  before  I  had 
time  to  climb  down  from  the  shelf  where  I  was  standing 
when  they  came  in. 

Perfectly  stunned  and  bewildered  at  what  I  had  heard, 
knowing  it  to  be  utterly  false,  yet  scarcely  aware  how  to 
act  under  the  circumstances,  fearing  I  might  be  blamed  for 
listening  to  a  conversation  I  had  overheard  so  suddenly^, 
and  so  entirely  without  design  on  my  part  to  act  the  part 
of  a  listener.  After  a  moment's  reflection  I  determined  to 
go  at  once  into  the  parlor  and  tell  Rachel  (in  Mr.  Clifford's 
presence)  that  I  had  overheard  her,  though  most  uninten-  • 
tionally,  and  then,  face  to  face,  dare  her  to  repeat  what  she 
had  asserted  either  in  Ethel's  or  my  father's  presence.  To 
conceal  what  I  knew  would  have  made  me  sick  and  miser 
able.  So  getting  down  from  among  the  plants  as  fast  as 
possible,  I  ran  round  and  entered  the  parlor,  but  unfortu 
nately  for  the  furtherance  of  my  plan  at  that  time,  neither 
Mr.  Clifford  nor  Rachel  were  there ;  but  just  as  I  entered, 
Ethel  came  in  through  another  door,  with  her  flowers 
beautifully  arranged  in  a  large  crystal  shell,  made  for 
holding  bouquets. 

I  presume  my  pale  cheek  and  troubled  look  startled  her, 
for  she  said,  "  What  is  the  matter,  Amy,  have  you  hurt 
yourself?" 

"  No,"  I  replied,  "  here  are  some  beautiful  green  leaves 
to  mix  in  among  your  cactus,  and  in  getting  those  vines 


78  •  WOODBUEN. 

out  of  the  green  house  I  overheard  Rachel  say  something 
about  you  to  Mr.  Clifford,  which  made  me  very  angry," 
and  then  I  told  her  the  whole,  with  an  earnest  assurance 
that  I  had  been  a  most  unexpected  and  unwilling  listener. 

"  What  an  unprincipled  girl  she  must  be,"  exclaimed  my 
sister.  "Yet  as  you  did  not  speak  at  the  time,  let  it  pass, 
she  would  only  sneer  at  you  as  an  eaves-dropper ;  say  you 
misunderstood  her,  etc.,  and  as  to  mentioning  the  subject 
to  Mr.  Clifford,  for  the  present,  at  all  events,  it  must  not 
be  thought  of.  He  certainly  does  not  deserve  our  friend 
ship,  if  Rachel  Thorn's  cunning  falsehoods  can  alter  his 
good  opinion  of  me,  and  I  can  scarcely  believe  it  will  have 
the  least  effect  upon  him,  but  if  so.  some  future  dark  attempt 
.to  injure  me,  will  reveal  Rachel's  falseness  without  any 
effort  of  ours  to  unmask  her,  and  therefore,  Amy,  I  must 
beg  you,  let  this  matter  remain  entirely  entre  nous — un 
less  Mr.  Clifford  sees  fit  to  speak  with  either  of  us  upon 
the  subject,  and  then  of  course  the  truth  must  and  shall  be 
told,  be  it  ever  so  much  to  Rachel's  prejudice." 

"  Oh,  Sis  !"  I  said,  "  it  is  too  bad  for  her  to  slander  you 
thus,  and  to  such  a  good,  true  friend  as  Mr.  Clifford ;  I  just 
hate  her  for  it,  and  don't  see  how  you  can  allow  her  to 
remain  at  Woodburn  after  such  a  daring  piece  of  treachery." 

"Now,  Amy,  that  is  all  nonsense,"  replied  Ethel ;  "we 
knew  all  along  of  Rachel's  duplicity,  and  I  am  not  at  this 
moment  more  sure  of  her  wish  to  injure  me,  than  I  have 
always  been.  Had  I  been  in  the  green-house  and  overheard 


RACHEL   THORN.  79 

what  you  did,  it  would  certainly  have  been  right  for  me 
to  speak  out  then  and  there  to  defend  myself  from  her 
calumnies,  but  to  make  her  your  enemy  is  a  different  thing, 
and  she  would  be  sure  to  deny  it,  unless  Mr.  Clifford  were 
present,  which  is  impossible,  as  nothing  would  induce  me 
to  mention  the  subject,  or  have  it  mentioned  to  him  ;  if  he 
believes  me  slandered,  it  surely  is  his  place  to  investigate 
the  affair  in  some  way,  and  then  let  Rachel  know  that  he 
is  in  possession  of  the  truth.  Depend  upon  it,  'twill  be  far 
better  thus." 

Just  at  that  moment  there  was  a  sudden  rush  through 
the  hall,  and  Rachel  entered  greatly  flushed,  and  looking 
as  if  she  was  overflowing  with  important  news. 

"Oh  cousin  Ethel,  Amy,"  she  cried,  " I  have  got  the  . 
funniest  thing  to  tell  you  that  ever  was  in  the  world." 
We  both  stood  looking  at  her  in  silent  wonder.  "Just 
now,  I  was  in  the  school-room  putting  away  my  German 
books,  when  uncle  sent  for  Mr.  Clifford,  who  was  over  in 
his  room.  He  went  of  course  at  once,  a/id  I  don't  think  he 
saw  me  even,  for  in  going  out  he  left  the  door  of  his  room 
wide  open,  and  as  I  passed  through  the  hall  a  moment 
afterwards,  seeing  what  seemed  to  be  a  miniature  lying 
open  on  the  writing  table,  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
of  taking  a  look  at  it,  and  who  do  you  think  it  was  ? 
Pearl — a  beautiful  miniature  of  Pearl  D  unbar,  and  set 
round  with  pearls  too." 

"  Impossible  !"  we  both  exclaimed  in  a  breath. 


80  WOODBURN. 

"Ah!  I  knew  you  would  not  believe  it,"  she  replied 
quickly,  and  therefore  I  slipped  the  picture  out  of  its 
velvet  case  and  brought  it  with  me — see  and  judge  for 
yourselves,"  saying  which  she  drew  out  from  her  pocket  a 
small  oval-shaped  ivory  miniature,  mounted  in  gold,  and 
set  with  large,  beautiful  pearls,  so  strikingly  like  Pearl 
indeed,  that  we  could  scarcely  doubt  its  having  been  taken 
for  her.  Yet  so  perfectly  amazed  were  we,  and  also 
provoked  at  Rachel's  audacity  in  daring  to  go  into  Mr. 
Clifford's  room,  and  still  more,  in  bringing  off  the  picture, 
that  my  sister,  while  casting  a  hurried  glance  at  it,  said — 

"  Oh,  Rachel !  how  could  you  do  such  a  thing?  The 
idea  of  stealing  into  a  gentleman's  room  without  his  knowl 
edge,  and  then  to  bring  the  miniature  away.  Suppose 
he  returns  and  misses  it,  what  would  you  do,  and  what 
would  he  think  of  you  ?" 

"Why,  what  a  fuss  you  make  about  nothing,"  she  an 
swered  ;  "  in  the  first  place,  there's  no  danger  of  his  getting 
back  before  I  replace  it,  as  uncle's  talks  with  him  are 
everlasting,  and  suppose  he  did,  why  I  should  just  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it,  and  say  the  curiosity  inherited  from  our 
worthy  ancestress,  Mrs.  Eve,  tempted  me  to  peep,  and  I 
could  not  resist ;  nor  a  further  temptation  either,  to  sur 
prise  you  with  this  unexpected  discovery.  Just  to  think 
of  Mr.  Clifford  and  Pearl  being  lovers.  Who  would  have 
thought  it?  How  sly  they  have  been,  and  how  perfectly 
furjpus  Victor  will  be  when  he  finds  it  out,  and  I  am  de- 


RACHEL   THORN.  81 

termined  he  shall  know  it.  She  ought  to  be  ashamed  to 
flirt  with  two  men  and  be  engaged  to  a  third,  for  I've  been 
told  that  Cecil  Clare  is  devoted  to  her." 

"  Kachel,"  I  said,  "you  shall  not  continue  to  talk  in 
this  manner  of  one  who  is  dear  to  us  as  a  sister  ;  though  so 
much  like  her,  that  cannot  be  Pearl's  likeness,  or  if  so, 
she  has  doubtless  only  lent  it  to  Mr.  Clifford  to  copy,  at 
his  request.  At  all  events,  she  is  incapable  of  doing  any 
thing  deceitful  or  unladylike,  and  it  is  certainly  neither 
your  business  nor  ours  to  meddle  in  this  matter.  If  right 
that  Victor  should  know  it,  she  will  doubtless  tell  him  her 
self." 

Here  Ethel  interrupted  me,  saying — 

"  Rachel,  let  me  implore  you  to  go  at  once,  replace  the 
miniature,  and  then  candidly  tell  Mr.  Clifford  what  you 
did  in  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  and  ask  his  forgivness." 

"Well,  that's  a  fine  joke,"  she  cried.  "I  shall  of 
course  put  it  back,  but  as  to  saying  anything  about  the 
.matter  to  him,  catch  me  at  it."  And  away  she  went, 
leaving  Ethel  and  myself  gazing  at  each  other  in  utter 
amazement. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  that  miniature  before,  Amy?"  asked 
my  sister,  looking  very  white,  and  speaking  in  an  agitated 
voice. 

"  No,  nor  do  I  think,  spite  the  likeness,  it  can  be  hers, 
as,  had  she  owned  such  an  one,  'tis  more  than  probable  we 
would  have  seen  it  long  ago,  or  at  least  when  it  was  taken, 

4* 


82  WOODBURN. 

and  we  know  she  has  not  been  lately  sitting  for  her  picture. 
Though  so  wonderfully  like,  that  face  looks  older  to  me 
than  Pearl's.  Perhaps  Mr.  Clifford  painted  it  from  mem 
ory,  and  blending  her  image  with  that  of  some  dear  one 
who  resembles  Pearl — has  given  the  picture  this  rather 
more  quiet  expression. 

"Oh!  it  must  be  Pearl,  surely,"  she  said,  "and  the 
whole  thing  is  very  strange,  though  Mr.  Clifford  might 
fascinate  even  a  girl  so  much  younger  than  himself,  it  is 
true,  but  why  has  Pearl  not  confided  in  us  ?" 

"Don't  distrust  her,  sister;  depend  on  it,  Mr.  Clifford 
is  no  lover  of  hers,  and  it  will  be,  must  be  cleared  up  in 
time  to  our  perfect  satisfaction." 

The  emphasis  laid  on  "  hers"  made  Ethel  look  up  at  me 
with  a  queer,  startled  expression,  as  she  said  hurriedly, 
"  What  if  he  is?  They  surely  have  a  perfect  right  to 
love  each  other  !  A  most  outrageous  piece  of  daring  that 
was  in  Rachel.  I  feel  mean,  actually,  for  having  even 
looked  at  the  picture,  and  now  she  will  certainly  make 
mischief  between  Victor  and  Pearl.  I  feel  wretched  about 
the  whole  thing !" 

Dear  Ethel !  I  knew  (or  rather  guessed)  the  cause  of 
that  wretchedness,  which  she  would  have  then  been  so  un 
willing  to  confess,  and  was  even  startled  by  my  emphasiz 
ing  a  little  word,  whose  meaning  awakened  an  echo  in  her 
inmost  heart. 


CHAPTER     VIII. 

MB.     CLIFFORD     PERPLEXED. 


"And  that  in  seeking  to  undo 
One  riddle,  and  to  find  the  true, 
1  knit  a  hundred  others  new." — TENNYSON. 


THERE  was  a  queer  state  of  things  existing  at  Wood- 
burn  for  some  time  subsequent  to  the  events  related  in  my 
last  chapter.  Rachel  Thorn's  manoeuvring  was  for  a 
while  successful,  and  she,  as  a  matter  of  course,  proper - 
tionably  exultant ;  while  Ethel  looked  worried  ;  Mr.  Clif 
ford,  though  kind  and  gentlemanly  as  ever,  sorely  per 
plexed  ;  and,  if  looks  are  an  indication  of  feelings,  I  must 
have  appeared,  as  I  surely  felt,  excessively  provoked — 
so  much  so,  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  me  to  treat 
Rachel  with  even  common  politeness ;  and  I  rarely 
spoke  to  her,  never,  in  fact,  save  when  she  addressed  me 
directly. 

She  had  taken  occasion  to  inform  us — Ethel  and  myself 
— that  the  picture  we  made  such  a  fuss  about  was  replaced 
in  its  case,  long  before  Mr.  Clifford  returned  to  his  room  ; 


84  WOODBURN. 

and,  as  it  could  not  tell  tales  and  she  would  not,  there  ex 
isted  no  possible  chance  of  his  knowing  anything  about  the 
funny  little  trip  it  had  taken  in  her  pocket.  We  were  per 
fectly  disgusted  with  her  conduct,  and  made  no  reply, 
though  she  laughed  triumphantly,  and  was  evidently 
pleased,  as  with  some  very  clever  performance. 

I  am  perfectly  certain,  Rachel  never  for  one  moment  be 
lieved  Mr.  Clifford  to  be  a  lover  of  Pearl's ;  and  even  if 
she  thought  the  miniature  really  one  of  her — which  is 
doubtful — her  idea,  no  doubt,  was,  either  that  he  had 
painted  it,  or  borrowed  it  from  Pearl  for  the  purpose  of 
copying ;  for  she  was  too  absurdly  in  love  with  Mr.  Clif 
ford  herself  to  triumph  thus  at  finding  another  woman's 
picture  in  his  possession,  unless  quite  sure  she  was  no  ri 
val,  and  the  secret  of  her  exultation  consisted  in  accident 
ally  discovering  another  means  by  which  her  wily  scheme 
to  separate  him  from  my  sister  might  be  forwarded ;  and 
as  the  days  wore  away  I  could  see  a  shade  of  coldness  grow 
ing  up  between  them,  just  a  shade,  yet  it  pained  me, 
knowing  he  was  deceived,  and  feeling  almost  sure  that  she 
was  also,  which  state  of  things  annoyed  me  beyond  expres 
sion,  and  I  had  arrived  at  a  positive  determination  to  try 
at  least  and  set  matters  right,  when,  by  going  a  step  too 
far  in  her  most  inveterate  propensity  to  make  mischief, 
Rachel  Thorn  upset  part  of  her  plan  and  opened  a  way  for 
overthrowing  it  entirely. 

About  two  weeks  after  Rachel  found  the  miniature  in 


. 

MR.    CLIFFORD    PERPLEXED.  85 

Mr.  Clifford's  room,  I  was  sitting  at  the  front  door,  study 
ing  one  of  my  lessons,  when  Archey,  shuffling  round  the 
corner  of  the  house,  pulled  off  his  hat,  and  said, 

"  Please,  Miss  Amy,  is  you  gwin  to  ride,  and  shall  I 
saddle  Lara  or  Miss  Effle's  little  filly  for  you, — dar  comes 
Miss  Pearl  froo  de  gate,  and  she's  comin  in  a  hurry,  too. 
Gosh  !  but  a'nt  Frolic  tryin  hissef  ?" 

"No,  I  am  not  going  out,  Archey,  this  evening,  and 
suppose  Miss  Pearl  is  only  coming  over  for  a  visit — but  you 
can  stay  and  take  her  horse.  It  ia  queer  she  is  all  alone, 
not  even  little  Dick  with  her  to  open  the  gate." 

"  Lor»  bless  you,  Miss,  yander's  Dick  clippin'  it  down 
de  lane,  but  /he  can't  keep  up  wid  his  young  lady  when 
she's  flying  like  dat  no  time,  de  poor  little  nigger  looks, 
arter  ridin'  long  of  her,  most  always  like  he  had  jis  got 
out  of  a  dust  pile — " 

"  Je  hollikins  !    how  Frolic  is  swettin  !" 

And  as  Archey  took  the  bridle  of  the  tired  animal, 
Pearl,  looking  flushed  and  excited,  jumped  down,  and, 
rushing  up  to  me,  said  hurriedly, 

"Amy,  where  is  Rachel  Thorn?  She  has  told  a  base 
falsehood  to  Victor,  just  for  the  purpose  of  trying  to  make 
mischief  between  us,  and  I  must  see  her  at  once,  in  your 
presence  and  Cousin  Ethel's,  for  she  shall  take  it  back." 

I  followed  her  into  the  parlor,  knowing  perfectly  what 
was  coming,  highly  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  having 
such  a  mystery  cleared  up,  and  not  displeased,  I  must  con- 


86  WOODBUKN. 

fess,  at  the  chance  of  seeing  Rachel  placed  by  her  vile 
scheming  in  a  rather  uncomfortable  corner. 

Soon  after  Ethel  came  in,  who  looked  surprised  at 
Pearl's  visible  agitation,  and  asked  her,  "What  was  the 
matter  ?" 

"Wait  until  that  little  viper  comes,"  was  her  reply, 
"and  then  you  shall  know." 

I  saw  in  a  moment,  from  my  sister's  expression,  that  she 
knew  herself  mistaken  with  regard  to  the  miniature,  for 
her  face  cleared  and  were  a  relieved  look. 

Just  then  Rachel  entered,  looking  unusually  pale  and 
troubled,  as  when  sent  for  in  such  a  hurry  by  Pearl,  she 
no  doubt  guessed  the  object  of  her  visit,  who,  so  soon  as 
she  appeared,  exclaimed, 

"  Rachel  Thorn,  how  dared  you  tell  Victor  Dunbar 
that  you  knew  a  gentleman  to  whom  I  had  given  my  pic 
ture  ?  It  was  false,  and  you  knew  it — and  I  demand,  as  a 
right,  to  hear  why  such  a  story  was  forged,  or  what  possi 
ble  foundation  you  have  for  it?" 

"  The  best  foundation  in  the  world,"  replied  Rachel, 
doggedly — though  her  look  was  anything  but  confident, 
and  her  voice  trembled;  " I  saw  your  miniature  on  Mr. 
Clifford's  table,  and  brought  it  in  here  for  cousin  Ethel  and 
Amy  to  look  at — ask  them  if  I  am  not  telling  the  truth." 

"  You  certainly  had  in  your  possession,  and  showed  to 
us,"  said  my  sister,  "a  beautiful  miniature,  which  you 
represented  as  belonging  to  Mr.  Clifford — and  which  was 


MB.    CLIFFORD    PERPLEXED.  87 

most  wonderfully  like  Pearl ;  yet,  it  does  not  follow,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  that  this  picture  was  taken  for  her,  and 
from  her  manner  of  denying  the  fact,  I  am  quite  sure  it 
was  not." 

"The  idea  of  my  giving  such  a  likeness  of  myself  to 
Mr.  Clifford  at  all,  is  perfectly  ridiculous,  of  course,"  Pearl 
exclaimed;  " but  had  such  an  one  been  in  existence,  you 
would  all  have  seen  it,  and  papa  would  not  have  suffered 
me  to  give  it  away.  Yet,  even  granting,  Rachel,  that  you 
believed  the  miniature  to  be  mine,  what  could  possibly 
induce  the  insinuation  made  to  Victor,  that  Mr.  Clifford 
was  my  lover?  You  must  have  known,  you  did  know, 
this  to  be  false ;  and  I  cannot  forgive  such  a  piece  of  mis 
chief-making  on  your  part." 

"  I  never  dreamed,"  replied  Rachel,  "of  making  mis 
chief,  by  informing  your  adopted  brother  that  Mr.  Clifford 
was  in  possession  of  your  miniature,  Pearl ;  brothers  are 
not  generally  in  the  habit  of  blazing  out  at  their  sisters  for 
having  love  affairs — perhaps,  however,  as  Victor,  in  reality, 
does  not  bear  that  relationship  towards  you,  I  may  have 
mistaken  your  position  to  each  other." 

The  high-spirited  girl  cast  upon  her  impertinent  tor 
mentor  a  look  of  such  withering  scorn  and  contempt,  (as 
eyes  like  hers  alone  can  flash)  while  replying  : 

"  As  my  brother,  or  my  lover,  either,  Miss  Thorn,  Vic 
tor  might  well  have  been  provoked  at  me  for  presenting  my 
miniature  to  a  gentleman  without  his  knowledge  or  consent ; 


88  WOODBURN. 

and  your  insolent  curiosity  regarding  the  relationship  in 
"which  we  stand  to  each  other,  shall  never  be  gratified 
by  me.  Amy,  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  see  if  Mr. 
Clifford  is  at  home — as  it  is  my  wish  to  have  this 
amiable  young  lady  informed  (in  the  presence  of  witnesses) 
whether  he  has  now,  or  ever  has  had,  a  likeness  of  me." 

I  left  the  room  at  once,  to  comply  with  Pearl's  request, 
and  have  no  further  knowledge  of  what  transpired  between 
them,  until  after  I  returned  with  Mr.  Clifford — who  was 
not  a  little  astonished  at  being  sent  for  so  particularly  and 
unexpectedly  by  Pearl. 

Rachel  looked  as  white  as  a  ghost  when  we  entered ; 
indeed,  she  could  scarcely  help  feeling  both  angry  and 
mortified  at  having  her  perfidious  conduct  thus  exposed. 

So  soon  as  we  entered,  Pearl,  walking  up  to  Mr.  Clif 
ford,  with  flushed  cheeks  and  flashing  eyes,  asked  boldly : 

"Have  you  a  likeness  of  me,  Mr.  Clifford?  Rachel 
Thorn  told  Victor  that  you  had,  and  as  my  denial  of  the 
fact  seems  insufficient  to  convince  her — for  she  asserts 
having  seen  the  picture,  and  had  it  in  her  possession — I 
determined  to  bring  her  face  to  face  with  you,  and  let 
others,  beside  myself,  hear  the  truth." 

"  Don't  be  so  agitated,  my  dear  pupil,"  responded  her 
teacher;  "you  astonish  me  beyond  measure,  by  asking 
such  a  question,  as  I  cannot  imagine  how  or  where  Miss 
Thorn  could  ever  have  seen  a  miniature  of  mine  which 
does  certainly  resemble  you  exceedingly,  but  which  was 


ME.    CLIFFORD    PERPLEXED.  89 

painted,  I  fancy,  before  you  were  born,  as  it  has  been  in 
my  possession  for  more  than  sixteen  years.  It  is  the  like 
ness  of  a  very  dear  friend  long  lost  to  me,  and  to  whom 
your  remarkable  likeness  caused  the  violent  agitation  I 
evinced  upon  the  occasion  of  our  first  meeting.  I  have  no 
likeness  of  you,  Pearl;  nor  would  I  ever  care  to  have  a 
better  one  than  this  chances  to  be.  And  now,  Miss  Thorn, 
may  I  inquire  where  you  happened  to  obtain  this  said  min 
iature  ?"  turning  to  Rachel  with  grave  politeness. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  (by  this  time  worked  up  by  anger 
to  a  high  pitch  of  bold  effrontery)  "  I  saw  it  on  your  table, 
while  passing  through  the  school-house  hall — could  not 
resist  taking  a  peep,  just  to  see  who  it  was — and  then, 
amazed  at  beholding,  as  I  thought,  a  very  handsome  like 
ness  of  Pearl  Dunbar,  I  ventured  to  bring  it  off  for  a  mo 
ment  or  two,  that  cousin  Ethel  and  Amy  might  have 
the  benefit  of  my  discovery.  They  both  looked  at  it, 
and  believed,  with  me,  it  must  have  been  intended  for 
Pearl.  And  now,  as  this  most  solemn  and  important  con 
clave  is,  I  presume,  at  an  end  for  the  present,  with  the 
full  satisfaction  of  all  parties.  I  shall  beg  leave  to  retire." 

Saying  which,  she  swept  out  of  the  room. 

So  soon  as  we  had  recovered  (in  a  momentary  silence) 
our  astonishment  at  Rachel's  insolent  insinuation,  that 
Ethel  and  myself  were  mixed  up  with  her  examination  of, 
and  comments  upon,  Mr.  C.'s  miniature — if  not  with  its 


90  WOODBURN. 

actual  removal  from  his  table — my  sister,  in  an  agitated 
voice,  said : 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Clifford,  you  will  not,  you  cannot,  for  one 
moment,  believe  that  either  Amy  or  myself  encouraged 
Rachel  in  the  shameless  effrontery  she  evinced,  first  in 
daring  to  enter  your  room  and  bringing  off  the  picture, 
and  then,  in  braving  the  whole  matter  out,  as  if  not  in  the 
least  ashamed  of  it.  She  took  the  miniature  out  of  her 
pocket,  and  held  it  up  before  us  in  such  a  way  as  to  insure 
our  having  a  full  and  perfect  view  of  it — and  so  much  we 
could  not  avoid  ;  but  we  both  chided  her  severely  for  {ouch- 
ing  it,  and  neither  of  us  even  took  the  picture  in  our 
hands  to  examine,  though,  of  course,  it  was  impossible  not 
to  observe  the  very  singular  resemblance  it  bears  to  Pearl, 
and  I  believed  it  to  be  a  likeness  of  her,  though  Amy  did 
not,  and  said  she  thought  the  face  looked  older  than  Pearl's, 
though  so  exceedingly  like  her." 

He  did  not  interrupt  Ethel  while  speaking,  but  stood 
gazing  in  her  anxious  face,  on  which  such  an  eager  wish  to 
prove  herself  innocent  of  all  blame  in  this  matter,  was  so 
clearly  written — with  that  same  earnest,  eloquent  look  I 
had  marked  when  she  was  questioning  him  regarding  the 
propriety  of  receiving  Dr.  Foster's  flowers — then,  when 
quite  done  speaking,  her  eyes  fell,  while  she  stood  before 
him  as  if  waiting  a  reply,  Mr.  Clifford  said — 

"  Mrs.  Linton,  I  am  just  as  sure  that  neither  Amy  nor 


ME.    CLIFFORD   PERPLEXED.  91 

yourself  countenanced  Miss  Thorn  in  looking  at  that  pic 
ture,  as  I  am  that  she  wished  to  serve  some  purpose  (un 
known  to  us)  by  showing  it  to  you ;  and  since  this  little 
affair  serves  to  reveal  in  some  measure  the  character  of  your 
cousin,  I  feel  equally  certain  that  she  had  a  motive,  also, 
in  taking  me  into  the  conservatory  some  time  since,  (under 
pretence  of  showing  me  a  curious  flower,)  simply  that  said 
flower  might  lead  to  a  certain  subject;  and  regarding  a 
friend  of  mine,  from  whose  history  she  volunteered  to  re 
late  some  episodes  so  naturally  and  feelingly,  as  for  a  time 
to  deceive  me, — I  say  it  with  shame, — and  to  alter  the  high 
opinion  I  had  formed  of  her  integrity  and  truth.  That 
friend,  Mrs.  Linton,  was  yourself.  The  subject  of  Miss 
Thorn's  communication  we  can  discuss,  if  you  wish  it,  at 
some  future  time.  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  they  need 
no  further  denial ;  and  my  humiliation  is  deep  indeed  at 
the  thought  of  having  doubted  one  I  knew  so  well,  from 
false  representation ;  though  while  imploring  your  forgive 
ness,  I  can  only  say,  if  it  will,  even  in  the  slightest  degree, 
excuse  my  weak  credulity,  that  your  cousin's  earnest,  inno 
cent  manner  of  speaking  might  deceive  even  a  more  sus 
picious  person  than  myself." 

He  paused,  held  out  his  hand  to  Ethel,  which  she  took ; 
and,  seeing  them  friends  again,  I  could  not  repress  an  ex 
clamation  of  delight. 

'There,  sister!  I  knew  it;  Mr.  Clifford  was  deceived 


92  WOODBURN. 

by  Rachel's  artful  representations.  Now  all  this  might 
have  been  avoided,  had  you  allowed  me  to  speak  at  once 
about  it." 

Mr.  Clifford  looked  surprised,  and  evidently  wondered 
how  I  came  to  know  anything  about  his  conversation  with 
Rachel  in  the  conservatory,  so,  as  the  'time  had  come 
for  a  general  explanation  of  mysteries,  a  full  account  of 
the  way  in  which  I  happened  to  overhear  it,  was  forth 
with  given,  when,  quite  contrary  to  my  expectation, 
upon  hearing  how  positively  Ethel  had  objected  to  my 
making  any  denial  of  Rachel's  story  regarding  Basil  and 
herself  to  him,  Mr.  Clifford  looked  particularly  well  sat 
isfied. 

What  queer  creatures  men  are,  to  be  sure !  I  fancied 
he  must  of  course  feel  exceedingly  grateful  to  me,  for  hav 
ing  entertained  a  wish  to  set  him  right  at  once,  by  denying 
the  artful  falsehood  with  which  Rachel  had  beguiled  him, 
and  also  a  wee  bit  hurt  at  Ethel  for  being  content  to  run 
the  risk  of  losing  his  friendship,  when,  lo !  to  my  amaze 
ment,  from  some  cause  or  other,  his  admiration  for  my  sis 
ter  appeared,  if  possible,  greater  than  ever,  while,  if  he  felt 
any  gratitude  for  my  friendly  intentions,  it  must  have  been 
too  deep  for  words.  I  will  try  at  all  events  to  think  so ; 
but  one  thing  is  quite  certain,  Mr.  C.  and  my  sister,  after 
their  reconciliation,  were  so  completely  absorbed  with  each 
other,  and  so  entirely  forgetful  of  Pearl  and  myself,  we 


ME.    CLIFFORD    PERPLEXED.  93 

came  speedily  and  wisely  to  the  conclusion,  that  our  com 
pany  was  not  then  and  there  particularly  desirable,  and 
when  our  eyes  had  telegraphed  this  much  to  each  other,  we 
silently  withdrew.  I  don't  believe  they  even  missed  us. 
What  ungrateful  people ! 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    PARSONAGE    AND    CECIL    CLARE. 


"  Strong  as  a  man,  and  pure  as  a  child,  is  the  sum 

of  the  doctrine, 
"Which  the  Divine  One  taught,  and  suffered,  and 

died  on  the  cross  for. — LONGFELLOW. 


"Miss  Rachel  has  a  headache,  sir,  and  wont  be  down," 
said  Bristol,  when  my  father  inquired  why  her  seat  was 
vacant  at  dinner. 

"Poor  thing!"  he  said,  "I  am  afraid  she  studies  /too 
hard.  Mr.  Clifford,  those  long  German  lessons  are  rather 
perplexing ;  don't  you  think  such  close  application  injuri 
ous  to  health?" 

Glancing  up  at  Ethel  and  myself  with  an  expression  half 
amused  and  half  worried,  my  teacher  replied,  "I  fancy 
Miss  Thorn's  indisposition  is  not  the  result  of  over-fatigue 
in  that  way,  Mr.  Percy,  as  she  commits  with  great  readi 
ness,  and  is  not  obliged  to  labor  over  her  lessons." 

"Ah,  well !  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  Ethel,  you  had  bet 
ter  see  if  your  cousin  is  ill,  after  dinner;  perhaps  she 
would  like  some  tea." 


THE   PARSONAGE  AND   CECIL   CLARE.  95 

My  kind,  thoughtful  father,  he  knew  nothing,  as  yet,  of 
the  darker  phases  of  Rachel's  character,  and  was  ever  thus 
mindful  of  her  comfort  as  of  ours.  I  feared  Rachel's  per 
fidy,  and  wanted  him  undeceived ;  but  Ethel,  pitying  the 
girl's  lonely  condition  in  life,  and  knowing  her  entire  de 
pendence  upon  us,  declared  she  never  would  unmask  her 
to  my  father  until  justice  to  some  one  of  us  should  render 
further  concealment  impossible. 

Rachel's  indisposition  lasted  several  days,  as  she  had 
tact  enough  to  keep  out  of  sight,  for  a  while  after  making 
such  a  disagreeably  impression  on  the  man  whom  she  was 
striving  even  by  such  extreme  and  desperate  efforts  to 
win. 

Foolish  Rachel !  she  little  knew  the  truth  and  purity  of 
that  noble  nature. 

On  the  following  Monday  Dr.  Foster  called,  bringing  a 
superb  bouquet  to  my  sister,  who  was  more  stately  than 
usual,  I  fancy, — as  later  in  the  day  I  heard  my  father  tell 
her,  he  had  taken  the  doctor  off  for  a  walk,  because  of  her 
exceeding  formality;  and  that  he  pitied  "the  poor  fellow, 
who  it  seemed  kept  a  conservatory  for  her  especial  benefit," 
and  then  his  look  was  so  comical  that  even  Ethel  laughed, 
though  at  the  same  time  she  said : 

"  Please,  dear  father,  don't  even  joke  me  about  the  at 
tentions  of  that  horrid  man,  for,  without  being  exactly 
able  to  define  the  reason,  he  is  excessively  disagreeable  to 
me.  I  only  tolerate  them  because  he  is  at  present  our 


yb  WOODBURN. 

family  physician,  and  sincerely  wish  he  would  move 
away." 

He  was  evidently  astonished  at  my  sister's  earnestness, 
and  kissing  her  fondly  on  the  forehead,  said : 

"Well,  well  !  I  won't  jest  about  him  again,  my  daugh 
ter,  but  try  and  be  as  civil  as  you  can,  for  though  not 
prepossessing  as  a  beau,  he  certainly  is  a  first-rate  physi 
cian,  .and  therefore — unless  he  is  impertinent — I  trust  you 
will  all  refrain  from  treating  him  with  marked  impolite 
ness,  as  the  loss  of  his  medical  skill  on  the  plantation 
would  be  a  severe  one  to  me."  « 

And  seeing  my  father  was  in  earnest,  we  all  promised  to 
be  as  civil  as  possible. 

Mr.  Clare  liked  the  neighborhood,  and  the  neighborhood 
liked  Mr.  Clare,  so  he  remained,  and  with  his  mother  had 
been  for  some  time  settled  at  a  lovely  parsonage  adjoining 
our  little  church,  and  situated  midway  between  Elgin  and 
the  Glen.  They  were  universally  esteemed,  and  had  been 
very  generally  entertained  by  our  hospitable  community. 
Mr.  Clare's  persuasive  eloquence  had  gained  him  an  influ 
ence  over  the  congregation,  never  so  fully  possessed  by  any 
of  his '  predecessors,  while  the  genial  charm  of  his  social 
qualities  secured  a  popularity  separate  and  apart  from  his 
holy  calling,  seldom  enjoyed  by  ministers,  and  never  by 
those  who  make  the  religion  of  Christ  incompatible  with 
all  pleasures  and  amusements,  be  they  ever  so  innocent ; 
representing  the  gentle  Nazarene  as  a  severe  judge, 'instead 


THE   PARSONAGE   AND    CECIL   GLARE.  97 

of  a  merciful  Savior,  thus  too  freequently  closing  the  door 
of  salvation  upon  the  young  and  light-hearted,  who  un 
willing  to  renounce  all  enjoyment,  fear  to  enter  in,  and 
are  not  unfrequently  led  into  a  sinful  excess  of  worldly 
follies,  which  the  cheerful,  healthful  influence  of  true  re 
ligion  might  have  prevented. 

For  He,  who  as  a  wedding  guest,  converted  water  into 
wine, — who  even  "  set  at  meat  with  publicans  and  sinners," 
— came  not  to  have  his  love  on  earth  as  a  cold,  dark 
shadow,  'neath  which  the  young  and  happy  might  dread  to 
dwell,  but  as  a  "  burning  and  a  shining  light "  to  those, 
he  teaches,  "to  pray,  and  not  to  faint," — nor  "  to  wear  a 
sad  countenance,  as  the  hypocrites  dor — but  to  keep  them 
from  the  evils  by  making  it  easy  and  pleasant  to  continue 
in  that  right  path,  "which  leadeth  unto  life  eternal."  Of 
this  pure  and  perfect  class — among  those  whose  mission  it 
is  to  proclaim  the  gospel  of  Christ — was  Cecil  Clare, — 
hence  was  he  beloved  not  only  as  a  minister,  but  as  a  man, 
and  his  mother  well  deserved  the  blessing  of  such  a  son. 
I  need  scarcely  award  her  a  higher  meed  of  praise.  On 
the  Friday  following  the  events  just  related,  we  were  to  take 
tea  at  the  parsonage,  all  save  Rachel,  who  (still  pleading 
indisposition)  would  not  join  us,  which  was  a  relief, 
especially  to  Ethel  and  Mr.  Clifford,  who  both  seemed  to 
feel  in  her  presence  as  if  under  the  influence  of  an  "  evil 
eye."  As  the  weather  was  fine,  we  left,  as  usual,  on 
horseback,  calling  at  Elgin  for  Pearl  and  Yictor,  the  old 


98  WOODBURN. 

folks  preceding   us  in  a    carriage, — for  dear  Aunt  Kate 
would  scarcely  have  considered  herself  in  greater  danger 
poised  upon  an  elevated  tight-rope,  than  on  horseback,  and 
was  continually  in  the  habit  of  predicting  that  some  of  us 
(most  probably  Pearl)  would  come  to  an  untimely  end 
sooner  or  later  by  this  mad  practice  of  "  racfng  through  the 
country."     Good,  kind  aunty  !    how  we   laughed  at  her 
fears,  and   how  pleasantly  she  took  it.     Alas !  we   little 
dreamed  how  soon  and  how  very  nearly  her  predictions 
were  to  be  verified.     As  we  rode  up  towards  Elgin,  Pearl 
and  Victor  met  us  in  the  avenue.     He"  looked  out  of 
humor,  and  she  a  shade  more  thoughtful  than  usual,—  iri- 
deed,  we  had  not  failed  to  remark  of  late  that  Pearl  was 
less  wild  in  her  mirth  than  formerly, — not  quite  so  fond  of 
riding  races  with  Ralph,  and  rather  fonder  of  going  to 
church  since  Mr.  Clare's  arrival,  yet  still  she  was  not 
changed,   only  softened — to  which   no  one  objected  save 
Victor,  who  had  been  jealous  of  the  minister's  influence 
over  Pearl  from  the  first.     For  a  short  time,  however,  this 
jealousy  was   diverted   into   another   channel,  by  Rachel 
Thorn's  malicious  gossip  with  regard  to  the  miniature,  at 
which  time  believing  himself  to  have  been  deceived, — the 
storm,  pent  up  so  long,  burst  forth  and  vented  itself  in  a 
torrent  of  reproaches  against  the  being  dearer  to  him  than 
all  the  world  besides,  for  which,  so  soon  as  the  matter  was 
explained,   he  became,   of  course,   very  penitent,    feeling 
heartily  ashamed  of  his  unreasonable  and  unjust  anger,  as 


THE   PARSONAGE  AND   CECIL   CLARE.  99 

• 

very  high-tempered  people  are  so  apt  to  be  when  brought 
to  hear  reason. 

The  pleasant  mood  succeeding  this  outbreak,  however, 
was  of  short  duration,  and  I  afterwards  learned  that  his 
ill-humor  on  the  evening  in  question  resulted  from  meeting 
Pearl  and  Cecil  Clare  strolling  through  the  Elgin  garden 
together  the  day  previous;  and  hence  the  reserve  and 
gloom  of  his  manner  when  they  met  us,  for  he  had  no  wish 
to  go,  and  only  consented  because  his  father  and  Aunt 
Kate  particularly  requested  him  to  do  so. 

Victor's  dislike  for  the  minister  resulted  entirely  from 
the  fact  that  Pearl  liked  to  hear  him  preach,  and  took 
pleasure  in  his  society ;  and  he  often  spoke  in  a  sarcastic 
tone  of  her  being  "  wonderfully  devout  since  this  charming 
lady-killer  had  made  his  appearance — all  of  which  Pearl 
,bore  most  amiably,  replying  somewhat  to  the  effect  that  she 
only  wished  he  would  find  a  charm  either  in  the  minister 
or  his  sermons,  which  might  induce  him  to  like  church- 
going  a  little  better. 

Poor  Pearl !  she  did  not  define  her  own  feelings  then, 
and  we  did  not  know  until  afterwards  that  Victor,  faulty 
as  he  was,  had  some  cause  for  what  we  then  regarded  as 
absurd  and  unreasonable  jealousy. 

"  Come,  Pearl,"  said  Ralph,  "let's  be  off  and  distance 
the  crowd."  She  hesitated,  glanced  up  shyly  at  her  com 
panion,  and  said,  "  Victor,  won't  you  join  us  for  once  in  a 
gallop?" 


100  WOODBURN. 

"  No,  I  won't,"  he  replied,  in  a  surly  tone,  "  racing  is 
not  much  to  my  taste ;  and  besides,  I  am  not,  perhaps, 
quite  as  anxious  to  reach  the  parsonage  as  you  are." 

The  speech  was  rude,  unkind,  uncalled  for,  and  all  feel 
ing  for  Pearl,  we  pretended  not  to  hear  it ;  but  I  saw  her 
great  dark  eyes  fill  up  with  tears,  as  bending  towards  him, 
she  said  in  a  trembling  voice, 

"  I  do  not  deserve  such  unkindness  from  you,  Victor," 
and  then  she  dashed  on  with  my  brother. 

I  was  provoked  at  my  cousin's  rudeness  to  Pearl,  and 
yet,  no  way  displeased  as  they  rode  off,  leaving  Victor 
with  me.  I  cared  more  for  him  than  she  did — at  least  in 
such  manner  my  foolish  heart  argued — and  why  should 
he  not  stay  with  me  ? 

He  called  me  "little  coz,"  regarded  me  as  a  perfect 
child,  though  scarcely  a  year  younger  than  Pearl — and. 
still  I  nursed  the  hope  that  perhaps  one  of  these  days, 
finding  Pearl  only  cared  for  him  as  a  brother,  when  I 
should  cease  to  be  so  like  a  child,  he  might — but  no  mat 
ter,  it  is  very  foolish  and  idle  in  children  to  dream. 

After  our  arrival  at  the  parsonage,  so  bright,  so  cheer 
ful,  such  a  beautiful  picture  of  a  minister's  home,  and 
where  so  cordial  and  warm  a  welcome  awaited  us,  the 
cloud  arising  from  Victor's  ill-temper  soon  dispersed — 
for  he  was  far  too  well  bred  to  show  the  darker  phase  of 
his  nature  before  those  whose  hospitality  he  had  accepted, 
even  though  unwillingly  ;  so  the  evening  wore  pleasantly 


THE    PARSONAGE    AND    CECIL    CLARE.  101 

away,  Pearl  being  her  own  bright  self  again  after  a  little 
whispered  chat  with  Victor,  in  which  I  am  sure  he  begged 
her  pardon  for  his  recent  harshness. 

Mr.  Clare  and  his  mother  were  so  earnest  in  striving  to 
please,  and  yet  so  totally  free  from  all  fussiness  in 
their  style  of  entertaining,  that  it  was  a  real  treat  to  visit 
them. 

Once  during  the  evening,  when  fortunately  for  the  pres 
ervation  of  Victor's  equanimity  of  temper,  he  happened 
to  be  looking  in  another  direction,  I  saw  Pearl  blush 
and  tremble  when  our  host,  bending  over  to  present  a 
dainty  bunch  of  sweet  violets,  touched  her  hand — of  course 
accidentally,  such  things  are  always  accidental — whisper 
ing,  at  the  same  time,  something  too  low  for  me  to  hear ; 
yet  I  found  myself  wondering  what  he  could  have  said. 

To  be  sure,  it  was,  or  ought  to  have  been  nothing  to 
me.  What  right  had  I  to  think  or  care  about  it  ?  Per 
haps  Mr.  Clare  was  saying  something  to  her  about  joining 
the  church — however,  she  would  not  be  apt  to  blush  at 
that — and  so,  without  exactly  knowing  why,  this  soliloquy 
ended  in  my  feeling  very  happy  to  see  our  own  pastor  so 
taken  up  with  Pearl,  and  also  that  she  liked  him  well 
enough  to  change  color  at  the  empressement  of  his  manner 
in  presenting  a  bunch  of  violets. 


CHAPTER   X. 

OUR    BIDE    HOME,    AND    WHAT    CAME    OF    IT. 

"Through  the  deep  woods  with  startling  cry, 
Like  huntef  beast,  he's  bounded  by." — ANON. 

THERE  was  a  partial  moon  when  we  left  at  ten  o'clock, 
and  feeling  particularly  amiable  and  generous  under  the 
influence  of  certain*conclusions  arrived  at  after  witnessing 
the  little  tableau  referred  to  between  Mr.  Clare  and  Pearl, 
I  said  to  my  escort,  just  as  we  were  mounting, 

"  Come  now,  Cousin  Vic,  be  good-natured,  and  ride 
back  as  fast  as  Pearl  wishes,  for  that  speech  of  yours 
wounded  her  ;  besides,  I  have  something  to  say  to  Ralph, 
so  he  must  go  with  me." 

He  acquiesced  with  evident  delight,  so  much  so  that  it 
cooled,  in  a  slight  degree,  the  ardor  of  my  generosity  as 
they  rode  off  together,  taking  the  lead  of  our  party, 
Archey  being,  as  usual,  sent  on  a-head  to  open  the  gates. 

Thus  we  rode  along  pleasantly  enough  until  when  about 
a  half  mile  beyond  the  parsonage,  where  there  was  a  very 
sudden  and  abrupt  descent  in  the  road,  rising  as  suddenly 
on  the  other  side,  forming  a  gully  which  resembled  the 


OUR   RIDE   HOME,    AND   WHAT   CAME  OF   IT.          103 

bed  of  a  stream  long  gone  dry.  Just  as  Victor  and  Pearl 
descended,  (as  Archey  rode  upon  the  opposite  bank,)  the 
figure  of  a  man,  wan  and  wild  looking,  with  long  matted 
hair  and  tattered  clothes,  rushed  swiftly  through  the  centre 
of  this  gully — which  on  either  side  of  the  road  was  filled 
with  tangled  vines  and  shrubs — starting  out  of  the  thicket 
on  one  side  and  disappearing  on  the  other,  with  a  cry  not 
unlike  the  war-whoop  of  a  savage,  just  in  front  of  their 
horses'  heads. 

It  was  certainly  enough  to  frighten  the  gentlest  animal, 
and  neither  of  these  was  particularly  quiet.  Frolic  gave 
a  sudden  plunge,  so  sudden  that  even  Pearl,  helpless  to 
avert  the  consequences,  being  entirely  off  her  guard  at  the 
time,  fell  over  his  head  into  the  road.  It  was  a  fearful 
sight,  for  Victor's  horse  reared  madly  and  then  dashed  on, 
apparently  over  the  very  spot  where  Pearl  had  fallen: 
but  a  strong  hand  and  stronger  bit  averted  that,  for  the 
frightened  animal  was  checked  about  a  yard  distant  from 
where  she  was  lying,  while  Frolic  bounded  over  the  pros 
trate  form  of  his  mistress,  ran  furiously,  and  was  already 
off  far  beyond  Archey,  who  had  jumped  down,  and  stood 
with  his  eyes  rolling,  crying  out, 

«  W-o-o-h.     Oh  Lord  she's  kilt !" 

Victor  bounded  down  from  his  horse  so  suddenly,  our 
first  impression  was  he  had  been  thrown  also,  but  in  a  mo 
ment  he  was  staggering  up  the  little  hill  with  Pearl  in  his 


104  WOODBURN. 

• 

x  arms,  scarcely  less  pale  than  the  insensible  girl  he  was 
supporting. 

I  never  shall  forget  the  frenzied  exclamations  of  agony 
which  appeared  wrung  from  him  while  gazing  down  upon 
his  apparently  lifeless  burden,  for  the  blood  was  pour 
ing  from  a  cut  in  her  head,  and  the  deep  swoon  into 
which  she  had  fallen  was  startlingly  like  the  stillness  of 
death. 

"  Oh,  God  !  she  is  dead  !  My  darling,  my  beautiful 
Pearl,"  he  cried,  "she  will  never,  never  speak  to  me 
again,  and  I — oh — I  have  been  so  harsh  and  cruel  to  her 
of  late." 

And  sitting  down  by  the  roadside  on  an  old  log,  holding 
her  to  his  heart,  that  strong,  stern  man  burst  into  a  pas 
sion  of  tears. 

We  had  all  dismounted  and  gathered  round  Victor,  as 
he  sat  down — Mr;  Clifford  alone  having  presence  of  mind 
enough  to  dispatch  Archey  after  the  carriages,  in  which 
Aunt  Kate  and  my  uncle  had  preceded  us  some  fifteen 
minutes,  charging  the  negro  not  to  alarm  them  by  looking 
so  ashy  and  rolling  his  eyes,  but  simply  to  say, 

"  Miss  Pearl  was  a  little  hurt,  and  would  be  obliged  to 
return  in  the  carriage." 

I  felt  sure  that  Aunt  Kate's  first  look  at  Archey's  face 
would  convince  her  to  expect  the  worst ;  but  there  was  no 
help  for  it.  Indeed,  both  Ethel  and  myself  were  so  per 
fectly  unnerved,  and  overcome  %vith  grief,  believing  Pearl 


OUR   RIDE   HOME,    AND   WHAT   CAME   OF   IT.         105 

to  be  either  dead  or  in  a  dying  state,  that  we  were  entirely 
unfit  to  act  or  suggest,  and  therefore  Mr.  Clifford  ordered 
everything. 

"  Mr.  Dunbar,"  he  said  to  Victor,  "we  must  take  her 
to  the  parsonage  as  soon  as  possible,  without  waiting  for 
the  carriage,  (which  may  ^overtake  us  before  we  reach 
there.)  but  not  a  moment  should  be  lost  in  removing  her 
to  a  place  where  restoratives  may  be  obtained,  and  also  a 
physician.  Ralph,  my  dear  boy,  ride  over  at  once  for  Dr. 
Foster,  and  now,  Mr.  Dunbar,  by  placing  Pearl  gently 
upon  this  thick  saddle  blanket,  we  can  carry  her  up  to  the 
parsonage  much  more  easily  and  with  less  pain  than.in  any 
other  way." 

Saying  which,  he  fastened  the  horses  to  a  tree,  and, 
aided  by  Victor,  (who  obeyed  him  without  a  word  of  oppo 
sition)  placed  the  senseless  girl  upon  the  blanket  between 
them,  and  lifting  it  up  firmly  and  gently,  walked  on  quickly 
towards  the  house,  followed  by  Ethel  and  myself. 

A  sorrowful  group !  and  oh  !  how  different  from  the 
merry  party  who  had  set  out  from  there  less  tnan  half  an 
hour  before.  Victor  was  at  first  bent  upon  taking  Pearl 
home  directly  the  carriage  arrived,  and  appealed  earnestly 
to  Ethel  to  know  if  she  did  not  think  it  best.  We  all 
coincided  in  the  opinion  that  such  a  step  would  be  madness, 
and  prove  almost  certainly  fatal  to  her  whose  life  now 
seemed  trembling  upon  a  breath.  Then  he  said,  with 
heart-rending  earnestness,  to  Mr.  Clifford : 


106  WOODBURN. 

"Tell  me,  really,  do  you  think  she  is  dying  or  dead?" 

"  No,  my  dear  friend,  she  is  not  dead,  and  I  trust  in 
God's  mercy,  not  dying;  though  her  pulse  beats  very 
feebly,  and  I  fear  she  is  badly  injured ;  but  prompt  and 
energetic  measures  may,  nay,  I  trust  will,  restore  her. 
On,  steady  now,  we  will  soon  be  there,  and  I  believe,  sin 
cerely,  it  is  far  better  to  carry  her  thus,  and  less  apt  to 
increase  pain  than  the  jolting  of  a  carriage." 

The  light  from  Mr.  Clare's  study  was  now  quite  visible, 
and  we  were  inside  the  gate  before  even  a  distant  roll  of 
the  carriage  could  be  distinguished. 

Pearl  was  on  a  soft  white  bed,  with  Mrs.  Clare's  gentle 
face  bending  over  her,  watching  the  effect  of  cold  water 
and  other  restoratives,  while  she  strove  to  staunch  the 
blood  still  flowing  from  the  wound  in  her  temple,  when 
poor  Aunt  Kate  and  Uncle  Dunbar  arrived,  for,  seeing  our 
horses  tied,  they  knew,  of  course,  that  we  had  returned  to 
the  house. 

"  Poor,  dear  child,"  said  the  good  old  lady  ;  "  my  fore 
bodings  and  predictions  are  verified ;  she  will  die,  or  be  a 
cripple  for  life.  Oh !  God  have  mercy  upon  our  darling." 

And  she  knelt  down  by  the  bed-side,  weeping  and  kiss 
ing  the  little  white  hand  which  lay  cold  and  helpless  within 
her  own ;  while  my  uncle,  with  a  grief  too  deep  for  utter 
ance,  stood  near  her  pillow,  looking  years  older  than  when 
he  left  home,  as  the  great  tears  coursed  silently  down  his 
furrowed  cheeks. 


OUR  BIDE   HOME,    AND   WHAT   CAME   OF  IT.        107 

It  is  very,  very  touching  to  see  old  men  weep. 

So  completely  engrossed  had  we  all  been  with  Pearl, 
that  no  word  was  spoken  in  regard  to  the  strange  looking 
being,  whose  sudden  appearance  and  startling  cry  had  been 
the  cause  of  so  much  mischief;  and  after  coming  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  must  have  been  some  poor  drunkard  who 
had  wandered  out  from  town,  I  scarcely  gave  the  matter  a 
thought  again  (until,  going  out  to  give  some  necessary 
directions  about  the  carriage,  etc.,  and  also  see  if  my 
brother  and  the  doctor  were  coming,)  Archey,  with  a  kind 
of  solemn  importance,  beckoning  me  to  the  end  of  the 
gallery,  whispered  : 

"  Miss  Amy,  does  you  know  who  dat  wild  lookin'  cree- 
ter  was,  what  give  Frolic  such  a  great  skeer?  Kase  I 
does." 

"  No,  Archey,  but  I  fancy  it  must  have  been  some 
drunkard  from  town  or  the  neighborhood,"  I  replied. 

"  No,  Miss,  it  an't  nudder — fore  de  Lord,  Miss  Amy, 
sure  as  I  is  a  livin'  nigger,  dat  was  the  poor  crazy  creeter 
what  Dr.  Foster  keeps  fastened  up  in  de  room  wid  iron 
bars  cross  de  winders;  all  de  niggers  round  here  been 
keepin'  tellin'  me  'bout  him,  steddy,  for  eber  so  long ;  but 
dey's  all  so  fond  of  tellin'  skeery  lies,  I  never  b' leaved 
um  till  dis  here  blessed  night,  when  I  seen  him  wid  my 
own  eyes,  and  no  mistake  'bout  it." 

I  was  astonished,  though  rather  incredulous,  at  what  the 
negro  said,  and  told  him : 


108  WOODBURN. . 

"If  Dr.  Foster  kept  a  crazy  man  fastened  up  in  a 
room  with  prison  windows,  it  could  scarcely  happen  to  be 
out  roaming  at  large  through  the  country." 

11  My  stars,  Miss  Amy,"  said  the  boy,  "  dat's  no  great 
wonder;  for  dat  big  ugly  nigger,  Gabe,  de  Dr.  sets  to 
take  keer  of  him,  is  awful  'feered  of  de  crazy  man,  so 
sometimes  he  knocks  Gabe  down  when  he  comes  wid  his 
vittles,  and  den  runs  so  fast,  he's  clean  out  in  de  woods 
fore  de  nigger  git's  time  to  holler — and  den  maybe  de  Dr. 
don't  lick  him.  Golly !  but  ain't  I  glad  dis  is  master's 
darkey,  sted  of  b' longing  to  sich  a  savage  man  as  dat  new 
Dr. ;  for  if  Archey  was  set  to  take  keer  of  a  crazy  creeter, 
he'd  run  off — fore  de  Lord,  he  would — but,  good  night, 
Miss,  I  must  be  a  gwying,  and  yonder  comes  Massa  Ralph 
and  Dr.  Foster.  He's  a  monstrous  wicked  man,  but  dat's 
none  of  my  business,  and  I  do  hope  he'll  cure  Miss  Pearl, 
for  she's  sich  a  nice,  pretty,  kind  young  lady." 

And  pulling  off  his  hat  with  a  bow,  Archey  shuffled 
round  the  corner  of  the  house,  just  as  my  brother  and  Dr. 
Foster  came  up  the  steps. 

So  completely  puzzled  and  bewildered  was  I  by  what 
the  black  boy  said,  it  overcame,  for  a  few  moments,  the 
intense  fear — which  had  overpowered  us  all — that  Pearl 
would  die.  It  is  an  unaccountable  anomaly,  when  the 
heart  and  mind  are  thus  diverted  awhile  from  an  absorbing 
sorrow  (be  it  ever  so  intense)  by  something  startling  and 
unexpected — and  my  brain  was  so  full  of  Archey's  queer 


OUR   RIDE   HOME,    AND   WHAT   CAME    OF   IT.        109 

story,  that  when  they  walked  hurriedly  up  to  me,  I  could 
not  speak  until  startled  out  of  my  abstraction  by  Ralph's 
frantic  manner,  as  he  said : 

"  How  is  she,  Amy  ?  Why  don't  you  speak  ?  Is  there 
no  hope  ?  Is  she  dead  ?" 

Almost  shrieking  the  last  word,  he  seized  my  hand  so 
fiercely,  that  in  actual  pain  I  cried  out : 

"  No,  no,  she  is  not  dead ;  her  pulse  beats  somewhat 
stronger.  Mercy,  Ralph !  don't  break  my  fingers.  Come 
in,  doctor,  we  have  been  most  anxiously  watching  for  your 
arrival." 

Cecil  Clare  was  standing  in  the  hall  as  we  entered, 
looking  very  pale,  and  oh !  so  wretched !  There  was  no 
outburst  of  grief  or  wild  anxiety  from  him  as  there  had 
been  from  my  brother  and  Victor ;  but  sorrow,  thus  con 
trolled,  is  suffering,  and  leaves  far  deeper  traces  upon  the 
countenance  than  when  relieved  by  tears  or  exclamations 
of  grief — and  that  pent-up  agony  left  an  expression  on  the 
minister's  countenance  which  surely  told  that  Christ's  spirit 
had  hushed  the  passionate  storm  within,  even  as  he  did 
the  raging  of  the  winds  and  waves,  with  one  deep,  holy, 
eloquent  whisper : 

"  Peace,  be  still." 


CHAPTER  XI.    - 

A     TIME     OF     TRIAL. 

"  Be  still,  my  heart  I  and  cease  repining ; 
Behind  the  clouds  is  the  sun  still  shining ; 
Thy  fate  is  the  common  fate  of  all, 
Into  each  life  some  rain  mast  fall, 
Some  days  must  be  dark  and  dreary." — LONGFELLOW. 

How  full  of  anxious  misery  to  us  all  were  the  moments 
during  which  we  awaited  Dr.  Foster's  decision  regarding 
our  darling  Pearl !  After  staunching  the  wound  in  her 
temple,  pronouncing  it  deep,  but  not  dangerous,  he  said, 

"  There  is  some  severe  injury  to  the  back,  or  one  of  the 
hips,  and  the  right  arm  is  broken,  hence  this  long  swoon, 
from  which  Miss  Dunbar  is  now  recovering,  was  the  result 
of  extreme  pain ;  but  unless  there  is  some  internal  injury, 
of  which  I  am  not  yet  aware,  there  is  no  reason  why  time 
and  careful  nursing  should  not  restore  her  to  health,  though 
if  the  hip  is  seriously  injured  she  may  be  slightly  lame  for 
life  :  indeed,  even  with  the  most  favorable  results  she  must 
be  lame  for  a  long  time." 

It  was  a  great  unutterable  relief,  even  with  that  fearful 
possibility  of  lameness,  and  a  fervent  ejaculation  of  grati- 


A   TIME   OF  TRIAL.  Ill 

tude  to  God  escaped  involuntarily  from  her  adopted  parents, 
which  found  echo  in  the  hearts  of  all  those  anxious  watchers, 
and  then  remembering  the  utter  wretchedness  expressed  on 
the  white  face  of  that  watcher  outside  her  chamber  door,  I 
whispered  to  his  mother,  that  perhaps  as  Mr.  Clare  would 
be  anxiously  awaiting  the  doctor's  decision,  she  had  better 
go  to  him,  and  my  proposition  was  gratefully  accepted,  for, 
while  resigning  her  place  to  me,  she  whispered, 

tf  Ah,  yes !  I  must  go  to  him — poor  Cecil !" 

Slowly  the  sufferer  revived,  and  at  last,  after  a  sudden 
shudder,  evidently  convulsing  her  whole  frame,  the  long 
black  lashes  were  lifted  from  her  palid  cheek,  and  we  saw 
again  those  beautiful  eyes  looking  upon  us  with  an  expres 
sion  of  wonder  and  alarm,  which  but  a  short  time  before 
appeared  closed  forever  in  the  sleep  of  death. 

The  fair,  mutilated  arm  must  be  set  at  once,  and  then 
followed  another  deep,  long  swoon  from  renewed  agony. 
The  hip  was  injured,  though  to  what  extent  could  not  as 
yet  be  fully  ascertained ;  but  in  moving  her  it  evidently 
caused  great  suffering,  and,  together  with  the  wound  in 
her  temple  and  fractured  arm,  brought  on  a  fever  and  de 
lirium,  for  which  the  doctor  was  in  a  measure  prepared, 
and  which  continued  in  such  an  aggravated  form  as  to  ren 
der  it  impossible  to  remove  her  from  the  parsonage  for  many 
weeks ;  indeed,  so  extremely  ill  did  she  become  at  one  time 
that  we  despaired  almost  entirely  of  her  life. 

Aunt  Kate  and  Ethel  were  with  her  constantly ;  indeed 


112  WOODBURN. 

the  former,  whose  love  for  that  beautiful  girl  was  the  ab 
sorbing  passion  of  her  life,  never  left  Pearl,  even  with  my 
sister,  until  the  fever  abated,  when,  being  quite  ill  from 
constant  watching  and  anxiety,  she  was  taken  almost  by 
force  to  Elgin  for  a  day  or  two  of  rest,  by  her  brother, 
whose  sufferings  were  scarcely  less  than  her  own,  and  both 
looked  years  older  from  the  effects  of  this  bitter  time  of 
trial. 

The  lessons  at  Woodburn  still  went  on ;  but  our  school 
room,  so  cheerful  before,  was  dreary  enough  now,  for  we 
missed  the  bright  presence  of  one  whose  coming  had  ever 
brought  as  it  were  a  flood  of  beaming  joy  into  our  midst; 
and  Ralph,  poor  boy,  grew  so  pale  and  listless  that  we 
scarcely  knew  him  as  the  gay,  frolicsome  lad  he  had 
been. 

Rachel  was  sulky  over  her  lessons,  when,  as  tune  wore 
on,  she  found  Mr.  Clifford  unalterable  in  his  freezing  cold 
ness  towards  her.  He  told  me  that  once,  in  a  hurried  and 
agitated  manner,  she  had  attempted  to  excuse  her  conduct 
regarding  the  miniature,  and  also  that,  so  far  as  Ethel's 
conduct  to  her  brother  was  concerned,  she  blamed  her 
uncle  more  than  any  one  else,  as  he  was  the  cause  of  her 
marrying  Arthur  Linton.  To  all  which  her  teacher  list 
ened  in  silence,  and  then  begged  that  in  future  she  would 
not  revive  the  subject,  as  he  had  no  objection  to  her  seeing 
the  miniature,  and  to  her  brother's  or  Mrs.  Linton's  secrets 
he  had  no  right  to  listen ;  yet  feeling  sure  whatever  either 


A  TIME   OF   TRIAL.  113 

Mr.  Percy  or  his  daughter  had  thought  proper  to  do  in  such 
a  case,  must  be  right  and  honorable,  and  that  upon  this  one 
point  nothing  could  ever  change  his  opinion,  so  it  was  best 
to  drop  the  subject.  And  so  Rachel  grew  sullen  and  silent ; 
but  the  fire  of  her  nature,  treacherous  as  that  of  a  volcano, 
Was  not  quenched,  only  smothered. 

Still,  Cecil  Clare  continued  to  preach — Sunday  after 
Sunday  rising  up  with  that  white,  still  face,  whose  very 
calmness  told  a  tale  of  fearful  inward  struggle ;  and  once, 
when  the  prayers  of  the  congregation  were  requested  for 
Pearl,  (when  the  fever  was  at  its  height,)  his  voice  grew 
so  low  and  tremulous,  we  knew  that  it  swept  over  a  well 
of  unshed  tears,  like  the  sad  wailing  winds  of  autumn, 
when  through  some  lone  valley  it  comes,  with  a  sobbing 
sound,  drearily  sweeping  over  deep,  still  waters. 

Dr.  Foster  continued  sending  flowers  to  my  sister,  who 
received  them  ever  with  the  same  stately  indifference.  She 
could  not  refuse  to  do  so  now,  while  the  doctor  was  in 
daily  attendance  upon  Pearl,  and  sometimes  they  were  sent 
to  the  invalid,  as  he  was  smart  enough  to  know  that  this 
would  please  Ethel  more  than  receiving  them  herself;  and 
as  Pearl  grew  better,  she  took  great  delight  in  the  fragrant 
bouquets  and  baskets  of  exotics  which  were  constantly  placed 
within  her  reach. 

Victor  was  gloomy  and  desponding  during  these  weeks 
of  trial,  as  he  rarely  saw  Pearl  save  for  a  few  moments  at 
a  time,  and  never  alone.  Her  being  so  long  at  the  parson- 


114  WOODBURN. 

age,  thus  increasing  each  day  her  debt  of  gratitude  to  the 
Clares,  was  a  great  source  of  trouble  to  him,  and  once  or 
twice  during  the  occasions  of  his  brief  visits  he  happened  to 
meet  Cecil  Clare  coming  out  of  Pearl's  chamber,  which 
added  to  his  annoyances,  though  under  ordinary  circum 
stances  it  should  not  have  done  so,  for  the  minister  is  con 
sidered  as  privileged  to  enter  upon  such  occasions  as  the 
physician ;  but  Victor  was  jealous  of  Cecil  Clare ;  and  to 
make  matters  worse,  good  Mrs.  Clare,  as  a  kind  of  apology 
to  him  for  her  son's  visits,  regarding  Victor  as  Pearl's 
brother,  told  him  that  while  the  delirium  of  fever  was  at 
its  height,  she  had  called  for  Mr.  Clare,  and  would  not  be 
satisfied  until  he  stood  beside  her. 

Poor  lady — she  meant  so  kindly — little  knowing  the 
deep  wound  her  words  inflicted,  for  Pearl  had  never  called 
Victor  during  her  illness — but  on  the  contrary,  rather 
dreaded  his  coming — though,  of  course,  we  never  told 
him  this,  and  fearing  she  might  during  the  delirium 
express  something  of  the  kind  in  his  presence,  Ethel  al 
ways  begged  him  not  to  stay  long  with,  or  talk  much  to 
the  suffering  girl,  as  the  doctor  forbade  all  excitement  as 
highly  injurious. 

She  told  me  afterwards  what  was  held  as  a  sacred  secret 
at  the  time — that  once,  just  as  the  young  minister  had  left 
the  room,  Pearl  beckoning  to  her  said  : 

"  Don't  tell  Victor  that  I  care  for  Cecil  Clare,  or  I  be 
lieve  he  will  kill  him." 


A   TIME   OF  TRIAL.  115 

My  sister  was  frightened  at  the  wild,  earnestness  of  her 
words,  which,  though  uttered  in  the  aberration  of  fever, 
were  evidently  prompted  by  some  all-powerful  feeling  which 
had  haunted  her  when  free  from  hallucination ;  and  Ethel 
expressed  herself  as  fervently  thankful  that  Mr.  Clare  had 
left  the  room  ere  she  spoke  thus ;  and,  of  course,  while 
Pearl  continued  wandering,  she  could  not  dismiss  a  nervous 
dread  that  either  in  his  presence  or  Victor's  she  would 
utter  the  same  words,  or  some  of  a  similar  bearing. 

Rachel  Thorn  rode  over  occasionally  to  see  the  invalid, 
and  whenever  she  chanced  to  meet  Dr.  Foster  showed  an 
evident  desire  to  attract  his  attention,  and  was  always  sure 
when  they  met,  to  address  her  conversation  mostly  to  him, 
though  the  desire  he  had  evinced  to  aVbid  her  upon  their 
first  meeting  continued,  and  this  very  fact  while  it,  no 
doubt,  annoyed  and  puzzled  the  wilful  girl,  I  feel  sure, 
rendered  her  all  the  more  desirous  to  cultivate  his  ac 
quaintance. 

One  afternoon  it  so  happened  that  while  I  was  preparing 
some  lemonade  for  Pearl,  and  Ethel  combing  her  hair  and 
bathing  her  temples  with  ice  water,  Rachel  sat  near  the 
bed  with  a  light  fan  keeping  off  flies,  when  Dr.  Foster 
entered. 

She  was  sitting  where  he  usually  stood  when  feeling 
Pearl's  pulse,  and  I  observed,  with  some  surprise,  that 
after  the  usual  formal  salutation  to  us  all,  he  walked  round 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  bed,  (as  it  appeared  to  me,)  in 


116  WOODBURN. 

order  to  avoid  coming  near  Rachel.  It  was  juft  when 
Pearl's  fever  was  at  its  height ;  and  after  feeling  her  pulse 
and  watching  the  flushed  cheeks  and  wild  eyes  for  a  few 
moments,  he  asked  me  to  send  for  certain  things  required 
towards  the  preparation  of  a  soothing  medicine,  when  he- 
fore  I  could  put  the  lemonade  I  was  stirring  out  of  my 
hand,  Rachel  saying : 

"  Let  me  hring  them." 

Went  quickly  out  of  the  room,  and  after  returning 
with  the  desired  articles,  she  stood  near  the  doctor,  and 
much  to  his  annoyance,  continued  watching  him  while  he 
prepared  the  medicine,  asking  questions  and  making  re 
marks,  which  we  observed  were  responded  to  in  a  most 
disobliging  manner. 

At  last  having  finished,  he  pushed  away  his  chair  from 
the  table  as  if  provoked,  and  strode  off  to  a  little  dressing- 
room  adjoining  the  chamber,  where  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
washing  his  hands — rolling  up  his  sleeves  partially  as  he 
went. 

"  Oh  doctor,  you  have  no  soap,"  exclaimed  Rachel,  and 
picking  up  the  soap-dish  (which  by  some  accident  had 
been  left  on  the  bureau)  she  ran  after  him  just  a§  he  dip 
ped  his  hands  in  the  water.  I  did  not  hear  him  speak,  but 
from  some  cause  (then  unknown),  as  my  cousin  put  the 
dish  down  on  the  marble  washstand,  the  noise  of  which  I 
heard,  (though  as  the  dressing-room  door  was  only  half 
way 'open,  I  could  not  see  either  of  them,)  for  she  appeared 


A   TIME   OF   TRIAL.  117 

to  drop'  it  down  suddenly  out  of  her  hand,  and  crying 
out: 

"  Oh  merciful  God  ! "  in  a  trembling,  excited  tone  of 
voice,  rushed  back  as  white  as  a  ghost. 

"What  on  earth  is  the  matter,  Rachel,"  I  said,  going 
quickly  up  to  her ;  and  Ethel  asked  hurriedly  : 

"Are  you  ill?" 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  only  I  grew  suddenly  dizzy,  and  felt 
like  falling,  from  a  rush  of  blood  to  my  head  ;  it  will  soon 
pass  off." 

And  putting  her  hand  to  her  forehead,  she  sat  quite  still 
for  several  minutes.  In  the  meantime  Dr.  Foster  came 
back,  looking  quite  cool,  and  remarked  carelessly  : 

"  Are  you  in  pain,  Miss  Thorn  ?  " 

To  which  she  replied  : 

"No,  only  dizzy." 

He  sat  down  very  quietly  by  the  table,  and  commenced 
writing  out  a  prescription.  He  was  some  time  writing, 
and  I  saw  him  after  scribbling  over  half  a  sheet  of  note 
paper  (as  if  dissatisfied  with  it)  throw  the  paper  aside,  and 
commence  on  another  piece,  Avhich,  completing  in  much 
less  time,  he  folded  up,  and  handed  to  Ethel — while  as  she 
glanced  over  it,  he  caught  hold  of  the  discarded  scrap,  and 
rather  crumpling  than  folding,  stuffed  it  into  his  pocket. 

Rachel  sat  with  her  head  still  buried  in  her  hands,  while 
the  doctor  gave  several  directions  to  Ethel  regarding  Pearl's 
medicine,  etc. ;  and  just  before  leaving,  with  apparent 


118  WOODOBURN. 

civility,  which  we  thought  queer,  because  so  very  unusual, 
he  walked  over  to  where  she  was  sitting,  and  remarked  : 

"  I  would  prescribe  a  few  grains  of  ammonia  for  that 
dizziness,  Miss  Thorn,  and  have  some  here  if  you  will 
accept  it." 

Saying  this  he  took  a  small  lump  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  rolling  it  up  in  the  identical  scrap  of  note  paper  on 
which  he  had  written,  and  then  crumpled  as  if  worthless, 
he  handed  it  to  my  cousin,  who,  scarcely  glancing  up, 
thanked  him,  and  slipped  the  parcel  into  the  pocket  of  her 
dress. 

I  felt  puzzled  and  worried  at  the  whole  scene,  wonder 
ing  what  on  earth  could  have  happened  to  make  Rachel 
scream  out  so  (for  her  dizziness  was  evidently  all  feigned,) 
and  also  why  Dr.  Foster  should  become  so  suddenly  polite 
towards  one  he  had  particularly  avoided  on  former  occasions  ? 

After  he  left,  Rachel  complained  of  feeling  sick,  and 
urged  me  to  return  home  with  her  at  once  (as  we  had 
come  over  together  that  afternoon  in  the  carriage)  so  it 
left  me  no  opportunity  to  talk  the  matter  over  with  Ethel 
just  then,  though  we  exchanged  more  than  one  look  of 
wonder. 

My  cousin  remained  profoundly  and  gloomily  silent 
during  the  ride — and  immediately  upon  our  arrival  at 
home,  went  to  her  room,  telling  me  she  was  sick  ;  did  not 
want  anything  but  quiet ;  not  to  let  the  servants  disturb 
her;  and  after  shutting  the  door,  I  heard  her  turn  the 


A    TIME    OF    TRIAL.  119 

key,  as  if  to  insure  solitude.  My  last  thoughts  before 
going  to  sleep  that  night  were  of  Dr.  Foster  and  Rachel — 
wondering  what  he  did,  or  said,  to  make  her  scream  !  and 
feeling  as  if  I  would  give  a  great  deal  to  see  that  paper  in 
which  he  had  wrapped  the  ammonia. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

PEARL' s   SECRET. 

"  My  mind  is  troubled  like  a  fountain  stirred, 
And  I  myself  see  not  the  bottom  of  it — SIIAKS. 

WHEN  Pearl  was  convalescent,  and  quite  in  her  right 
mind,  one  morning  as  Ethel  and  myself  were  sitting  with 
her,  while  we  chatted  away  pleasantly,  and  among  other 
things  were  discussing  the  queer  scene  between  Rachel  and 
Dr.  Foster,  the  invalid  fell  quietly  to  sleep,  after  which  we 
continued  our  conversation  in  whispers,  for  fear  of  disturb 
ing  her,  and  an  hour  or  more  elapsed  before  she  woke. 
When  fixing  "her  eyes  with  a  troubled  expression  on  my 
sister,  Pearl  said  anxiously — 

"  Cousin  Ethel  come  here  ;  I  feel  very  sad  and  want 
to  consult  you  about  something  that  is  haunting  me  and 
making  me  miserable  night  and  day.  You  can  understand 
and  sympathise  more  fully  with  me  in  this  matter  than 
aunt  Kate,  and  therefore  it  is  best  even  before  speaking  to 
her,  that  I  should  ask  your  advice." 

My  sister  immediately  took  her  seat  close  by  Pearl  on 
the  bedside,  while  I  rose  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room, 


PEARL'S   SECRET.  121 

thinking  she  might  wish  to  be  entirely  alone  with  Ethel, 
when  she  said  quickly — 

"  Don't  go  away.  Amy.  I  trust  you  as  fully  as  cousin 
Ethel,  though  she  perhaps  can  advise  me  better,  and  want 
both  of  you  to  hear  what  I  am  about  to  say." 

I  drew  near  silently,  taking  her  thin,  white  hand  in 
mine  with  a  gentle  pressure,  as  she  proceeded. 

"Just  after  Mr.  Clifford's  arrival,  most  unexpectedly 
Victor  made  me  a  declaration  of  love,  in  his  wild  vehement 
manner,  saying  his  happiness — nay,  his  very  life  depended 
upon  my  becoming  his  wife.  This  pained  me  exceedingly. 
I  told  Victor  we  were,  and  always  had  been,  too  much  like 
brother  and  sister  to  think  of  any  nearer  connection,  and 
begged  him  to  give  up  all  thought  of  such  a  thing.  Fur 
thermore  urging  that  as  his  father  and  aunt  Kate  had 
always  regarded  our  relationship  as  brother  and  sister  with 
so  much  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  I  did  not  think  either 
of  them  would  approve  of  his  becoming  my  lover ;  but  here 
he  interrupted  me  with  the  assurance  that  he  had  spoken 
to  both  of  them  on  the  subject,  and  far  from  disapproving, 
they  were  higly  gratified — especially  papa,  who  said  noth 
ing  could  happen  that  would  afford  him  such  happiness  as 
a  marriage  between  us,  for  he  loved  me  dearly,  even  as  an 
own  child,  and  though  Victor  and  myself  had  been  reared 
togther,  yet  as  we  .were  no  relation  to  each  other,  of  course 
there  could  be  no  plea  of  that  kind  urged  against  our  union, 
and  so  far  as  my  parentage  was  concerned,  he  did  not  care 

6 


122  WOODBURN. 

whether  I  was  born  a  princess  or  a  peasant,  for  he 
knew  me  to  be  worthy  of  all  love,  and  good  fortune,  and 
prayed  God  that  Victor  might  be  so  blessed  as  to  win  my 
love." 

"  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  tell  you  how  perfectly  aston 
ished  and  overcome  I  was  by  all  this,  as  nothing  of  the 
kind  had  ever  been  hinted  before,  and  Amy  would  be  almost 
as  well  prepared  to  regard  Ralph  as  a  lover  as  I  was  to 
look  on  Victor  in  that  light.  Yet  I  loved  him  dearly,  and 
if  papa  wished  it,  did  not  every  feeling  of  gratitude  and 
affection  within  me  urge  a  ready  accession  to  his  wishes, 
who  had  been  such  a  dear  kind  father  to  me  ?  Then,  when 
I  hesitated  Victor  whispered  so  pleadingly,  so  earnestly, 

"  '  You  will  learn  to  love  me  darling,  you  are  so  young, 
such  a  child  yet,  that  you  scarcely  know  the  meaning  of 
love;  but  promise  only  that  you  will  try,  and  I  am 
content.' 

"  Then  he  drew  me  up  to  him  and  winding  his  arms  about 
me,  kissed  my  forehead,  lips  and  eyes  so  fiercely,  that  it 
almost  frightened  me,  and  as  he  continued, 

"  '  Tell  me  shall  it  not  be  so;  will  you  not  promise  to 
be  Victor's  own  little  wife — provided  he  can  succeed  in 
making  you  love  him  well  enough  ?' 

"I  answered  'yes,'  for  what  else  could  I  say,  cousin 
Ethel,  when  papa,  Aunt  Kate  and  Victor  all  wished  it  ?" 

And  throwing  her  arms  round  my  sister's  neck,  Pearl 
burst  into  tears. 


PEARL'S  SECRET.  123 

"  I  see  and  understand  it  all,  my  dear  child,"  said  Ethel 
caressingly,  "  and  cannot  wonder,  under  the  circumstances, 
that  you  should  promise  to  try  and  love  Victor,  as  he 
wishes ;  but  why  be  so  distressed  ?  Do  you  find  it  im 
possible  to  love  him,  except  as  a  brother  ?  If  so,  surely 
he  is  good  and  noble  enough  to  release  you." 

"Oh!  cousin  Ethel,"  replied  the  weeping  girl,  "you 
don't  know  how  passionate  he  is.  I  dread  to  tell  him,  for 
when  angry  Victor  is  unreasonable,  and  will  be  very 
angry  with  me.  You  remember  of  my  telling  you  of  the 
stormy  scene  between  us,  when  he  so  absurdly  believed 
Rachel  Thorn's  malicious  story  about  Mr.  Clifford's  having 
my  picture  ;  and  before  and  since  that  he  has  been  fierce 
or  sullen  by  turns,  because  —  because.  Oh  !  my  dear 
cousin,  it  is  hard  to  speak  of  this  matter,  even  before  you 
and  Amy.  But  he  is  jealous  of  Mr.  Clare,  and  thinks  I 
care  more  for  him  than  for  any  one  else." 

And  here  the  sick  girl  began  to  sob  so  passionately,  that 
we  were  afraid  of  her  lapsing  again  into  fever.  Poor  Pearl ! 
how  innocently,  yet  how  completely,  did  she  betray  her 
secret  in  this  outburst  of  emotion.  My  sister  at  last  suc 
ceeded  in  calming  her,  and  then  said — 

"  It  will  not  do  for  you  to  fret,  and  give  way  to  such 
depression  in  this  matter,  my  darling  Pearl ;  cheer  up,  and 
pray  for  guidance  to  that  all-*vise  and  merciful  Friend  of 
whose  wisdom  and  goodness  Cecil  Clare  has  taught  us  so 
many  true  and  beautiful  lessons ;  trust  to- him  for  strength 


124  WOODBURN. 

to  act  as  your  own  pure  and  truthful  nature  dictates.  Re 
member,  you  only  promised  Victor  to  try  and  love  him 
well  enough  to  be  his  wife,  and  finding  that  impossible, 
would  it  not  be  wicked  in  you  to  stand  up  before  God  and 
man  and  perjure  yourself  by  vowing  to  love  and  cherish 
forever  as  a  husband  one  who  is,  and  you  feel  can  only  be, 
loved  by  you  as  a  brother  !  Surely  Victor  will  see  and 
acknowledge  all  this,  my  child:  he  cannot  covet  an  un 
willing  bride.  So  when  you  are  strong  enough  to  speak 
more  calmly  upon  the  subject  than  at  present,  tell  him 
how  you  feel  without  reserve,  and  I  feel  confident  that 
though  disappointed  and  unhappy,  he  cannot  be  unrea 
sonable  and  angry. 

"But  papa  and  aunt  Kate,  they  know  of  the  under 
standing  between  us,  and  it  has  made  them  so  happy,  what 
will  they  think  of  me,  cousin  Ethel  ?" 

"  Only  that  you  are  a  sincere,  conscientious  girl.  Can 
you  believe  for  one  moment  that  either  of  them  would  wish 
you  to  marry  a  man  whom  you  find  it  impossible -to  love, 
save  as  a  brother  ? 

"  No,  oh,  no  !  I  am  sure  they  love  me,  and  are  not 
"stern  or  passionate  as  Victor.  Yet,  their  hearts  being  set 
upon  it,  may  they  not  be  made  unhappy  by  my  apparent 
waywardness,  for  he  is  so  worthy  of  my  love — ay,  of  one 
far  brighter  and  more  talented  than  I  am — for  Victor  is  so 
smart,  so  cultivated,  so  agreeable." 

To  all  of  which  my  fluttering  heart  said  "  amen,"  as  in 


PEARL'S  SECRET.  125 

mute  despair  I  sat  with  a  sick,  dreary  feeling,  the  blood 
seeding  to  curdle  cold  about  my  heart  while  listening  to 
Pearl's  recital  of  his  great  love  for  her,  and  the  unhappiness 
caused  thereby,  and  wondering  why  things  in  this  life  are 
ordered  so  strangely. 

"  They  will  not  think  you  wayward,"  responded  my 
sister,  "and  your  best  plan  is  to  speak  upon  the  subject, 
when  strong  enough,  to  them,  even  before  speaking  with 
Victor,  as  their  opinion  and  advice  will,  I  am  sure,  be 
calculated  to  strengthen  you  in  pursuing  the  right  course 
towards  him." 

Pearl  grew  quite  calm  after  this  conversation,  and  pro 
mised  to  act  as  Ethel  advised.  Foolish  child  that  I  was 
to  feel  thus  forlorn  at  hearing  this  verbal  confirmation  of  a 
fact  which  had  been  evident  to  me  so  long,  viz. :  that  Victor 
loved  Pearl,  and  wanted  to  make  her  his  wife.  Yet  as  a 
kind  of  antidote  to  this  feeling,  now  arose  the  certainty 
that  his  love  for  her  was  hopeless,  and  I  clutched  it  eagerly 
as  one  wounded  by  a  nettle  will  seize  the  soothing  weed 
which  often  grows  near  by,  and  is  known  to  cure  its  sting. 


CHAPTER     XIII 


THE     MANIAC. 


"  By  a  divine  instinct,  men's  minds  mistrust 
Ensuing  danger ;  as  by  proof,  we  see 
The  water  swell  before  a  boisterous  storm ! 
But  leave  it  all  to  God." — SIIAKKSPEAKE. 


ONE  fair  Saturday  evening  in  August,  a  few  days  after 
the  scene  related  in  my  last  chapter,  I  had  been  spending 
the  day  with  Pearl,  who  was  far  more  composed  since  her 
conversation  with  Ethel,  and  was  gaining  strength  much 
more  rapidly  than  before,  though  still  entirely  helpless. 
Aunt  Kate  and  Mrs.  Clare  were  sitting  with  her  on  the 
evening  referred  to,  so  I  proposed,  just  at  sundown,  to  my 
sister,  that  we  should  take  a  walk,  as  she  looked  pale  and 
drooping  for  want  of  fresh  air  and  exercise.  Ethel  as 
sented,  and  early  twilight  found  us  wandering  leisurely 
along  a  road  skirted  by  dense  woods,  in  the  direction  of 
the  Glen — for  Dr.  Foster  having  made  his  daily  visit  to 
Pearl,  we  were  not  afraid  of  encountering  him.  I  chatted 
away,  as  we  walked  along,  about  Archey's  improbable  story 
of  the  wild  man  who  had  frightened  Frolic — of  which  we 


THE   MANIAC.  127 

had  frequently  spoken  together  before,  and  which  my 
sister  persisted  in  ridiculing  as  perfectly  absurd,  maintain 
ing  always  that  this  crazy-looking  individual  was  no  other 
than  a  low  man  in  the  neighborhood  much  given  to  in 
toxication. 

On  the  present  occasion,  I  asked  her  how  she  accounted 
for  so  many  of  the  servants  telling  the  same  story  to  Ar- 
chey,  and  why  it  should  be  connected  with  Dr.  Foster's 
cruelty  to  Gabe,  said  to  be  the  keeper  of  this  unfortunate 
lunatic  ?  She  laughed  at  the  idea  of  my  crediting  such 
nonsense,  and  said, 

"  Some  drunken  guest  at  the  Glen  knocking  down  one 
of  the  servants,  would  be  quite  sufficient  for  all  of  Ar- 
chey's  romances — and  ten  times  more." 

As  she  ceased  speaking,  startled  by  a  sudden  rustling 
in  the  undergrowth  near  us,  and  feeling  rather  nervous 
from  our  conversation,  I  cried  out — 

"  Oh,  sis,  what 's  that  ?  Do  let  us  turn  back,  for  just 
suppose  we  were  to  meet  the  crazy  man  1" 

"  I  presume  it  is  a  cow  or  sheep,"  she  replied,  "  or  per 
haps  nothing  larger  than  a  rabbit.  Amy,  don't  be  so 
silly.  I  wish  Master  Archey  would  hold  his  foolish  tongue, 
and  almost  wish  some  one  would  give  him  a  good  shaking 
on  the  strength  of  his  absurd  stories." 

At  that  moment  I  gave  (involuntarily)  a  piercing 
scream,  and  grasped  my  sister's  arm,  pulling  her  towards 
me  so  suddenly  and  violently,  it  caused  us  both  to  totter — 


128  WOODBURN. 

for  there  before  us,  out  in  the  open  road,  where  he  had 
leaped  with  a  cat-like  bound  from  the  tangled  thicket — 
stood  the  same  wild  stranger  whose  sudden  rush  through 
the  old  bayou  had  caused  Pearl's  horse  to  throw  her  six 
weeks  before. 

Gaunt  and  sallow,  with  long,  light  locks  matted  together, 
hanging  about  his  neck  and  over  his  eyes,  a  great  mass  of 
yellow  beard  covering  entirely  the  lower  part  of  his  face — 
with  soiled  and  tattered  clothes  dangling  loosely  about  his 
attenuated  form — his  hands  scratched  and  bleeding  from 
rude  contact  with  thorns  and  briers — this  frantic-looking 
being,  from  whom  even  my  brave  sister  shrank  back 
amazed  and  terrified,  as  he  stood  before  us,  burst  into  a 
fit  of  wild  and  fiendish  laughter. 

We  both  comprehended  instantly  and  fully  our  fear 
ful  situation  in  being  wholly  and  helplessly  within  the 
power  of  a  maniac.  After  a  moment  or  two — though  I 
strove  to  drag  her  away — Ethel,  partially  recovering  her 
presence  of  mind,  and  knowing  how  useless,  nay,  perhaps, 
fatal,  would  be  any  effort  to  escape  by  running  from  a 
creature  who  could  leap  and  bound  with  the  activity  and 
suddenness  of  a  panther,  said,  in  a  gentle,  soothing  voice, 
though  tremulous  with  fear  : 

"  What  makes  you  laugh  so  ?  Is  there  any  one  trying 
to  catch  you,  from  whom  you  are  glad  to  get  away  ?" 

"Yes!"  he  shouted;  "I'm  glad  to  get  away  from 
him,  and  I'll  hide  forever  in  the  deep,  dark  woods  rather 


THE   MANIAC.  129 

than  go  back  there  " — pointing  towards  the  Glen — "  I'd 
rather  sleep  with  the  snakes  and  toads,  or  in  the  thickets 
with  bears  and  wild-cats,  than  go  back  to  that  cell.  I 
hate  him  !  and  I'll  kill  him  yet.  I  would  like  to  bite  and 
tear  his  flesh,  as  the  ugly  beast  he  hunts  me  with  tears 
mine.  My  brother  !  who  says  he  is  my  brother  ?  how  do 
you  dare  to  say  that  devil  is  my  brother  ?"  and  he  ad 
vanced  as  if  to  seize  Ethel,  who,  retreating  very  cau 
tiously  a  step  or  two,  replied  : 

"  I  did  not, say  so.  It  must  have  been  some  one  else — 
for  we  don't  think  he  is  any  relation  to  you,"  for  she 
knew  that  the  only  way  to  appease  lunatics  is  by  agreeing 
to  whatever  they  may  choose  to  say;  "but  if  he  treats 
you  badly,  why  don't  you  go  home  ?" 

"  Home,"  he  said — and  from  a  shrill,  frantic  pitch  his 
voice  suddenly  subsided  into  an  almost  plaintive  whisper  in 
the  utterance  of  that  single  word — "  home!  ah,  yes,  I  had 
a  home  once,  and  a  wife  too,  who  was  very  fair.  She  must 
have  looked  like  you,  but  I  don't  remember ;  it  has  been  so 
long  since  he  took  me  away  from  her,  and  I  have  grown 
so  old  since  then ;  but,  ah  !  I  forgot,  he  told  me  she  was 
dead  when  I  wanted  to  go  back  home,  and  kept  me  locked 
up — but  he  lied,  I  know  he  did,  because  he  always  does, 
and  I'll  kill  him  yet — ha,  ha,  ha  !"  and  as  that  fearful 
laugh  rang  out  again,  appearing  to  hear  some  sound  in  the 
distance,  he  looked  back,  and  almost  shrieked, — 

"They  are  coming  with  chains  to  bind  me,  and  the 
6* 


130  WOODBURN. 

hound  to  tear  my  flesh,  the  two  devils — one  is  white  and 
the  other  black,  and  I  can't  kill  both  together — hide  me. 
Oh,  where  shall  I  go  ?"  and  again  the  wretched  maniac 
would  have  seized  hold  of  us — this  time  in  terror,  as  if  we 
could  protect  him,  observing  which,  strengthened  with  fresh 
courage,  Ethel,  turning  quickly,  said  : 

"  Come  on,  follow  me — I  know  where  you  can  hide  in 
safety,  but  be  quick." 

And  almost  in  a  run,  we  set  off  towards  the  parsonage, 
the  lunatic  following  us,  until  suddenly  diverging  from  the 
road,  Ethel  led  him  by  a  path  through  the  woods,  a  short 
distance,  to  where  stood  an  immense  hollow  oak,  and  point 
ing  to  the  cavity,  said  hurriedly, 

"  There,  go  in  quick,  they  won't  find  you  now,  if  you 
keep  quite  still  for  a  long  time,  'till  they  have  gone  by." 

Stealthily  he  crept  into  the  tree,  coiling  up  among  the 
dry  leaves  and  moss,  as  if  accustomed  to  such  lodgings ; 
seeing  which,  my  sister  whispered, 

"  Now  don't  move  till  I  come  back  to  tell  you  they  have 
gone  by ;"  and  then  pulling  me  off,  after  gaining  the  road, 
we  ran  until  inside  the  parsonage  gate,  nearly  a  mile  distant 
from  where  we  left  the  poor  hunted  wanderer. 

Then,  when  the  danger  was  past,  Ethel's  strength  gave 
way,  and  falling  down  on  the  grass  she  sobbed  out  convul 
sively, 

"  Oh,  Amy,  was  it  not  too  frightful?  Poor  Archey.  I 
fancy  his  story  must  be  pretty  nearly  correct,  after  all. 


THE   MANIAC.  131 

But  who  can  this  miserable  being  be  ?  If  actually  in  Dr. 
Foster's  care,  his  brother  or  some  near  relation,  I  presume  ; 
but  if  so,  the  treatment  he  receives  must  be  harsh,  else 
why  this  dread  and  hatred  of  his  keepers  ?  I  cannot  un 
derstand  it,  yet  all  of  his  raving  confirmed  the  story  you 
heard  about  the  negro  Gabe,  for  he  said  there  were 
"two  devils,  and  one  of  them  was  black."  Oh!  mer 
cy,  how  cold  and  sick  I  turned  at  the  sight  of  that 
wretched,  frantic  looking  stranger,  and  nothing  but 
my  perfect  trust  in  the  goodness  of  God,  to  whom  1 
prayed  earnestly  for  help  or  direction,  ever  enabled  me 
to  act  as  I  did." 

Few  women  would  have  acted  with  such  perfect  self- 
possession  under  similar  circumstances,"  I  replied;  "but 
here  comes  Mr.  Clifford,  who  promised  to  ride  home  with 
me  this  evening — do,  dear  sis,  let  us  tell  him  of  our  start 
ling  adventure,  and  ask  if  he  has  ever  heard  anything  cal 
culated  to  throw  light  upon  this  mystery." 

As  we  walked  up  to  the  house — for  Mr.  Clifford  dis 
mounted  and  led  his  horse — I  gave  a  full  recital  of  our  ad 
venture  with  the  lunatic,  and  also  what  Archey  had  said 
to  me  the  evening  Pearl  was  thrown,  and  we  were  as 
tonished  in  no  slight  degree  to  find  that  Mr.  Clifford  had 
heard  all  about  Dr.  Foster's  crazy  brother,  the  room  with 
prison  windows,  etc.,  pretty  much  the  same,  indeed,  as  had 
been  related  to  me  by  the  negro;  but  he  was  greatly 
shocked  at  the  fearful  danger  from  which  we  had  just  es- 


132  WOODBURN. 

caped,  and  avowed  an  intention  to  speak  to  my  father  and 
Uncle  Dunbar  on  the  subject  at  once,  and  regarding  the 
propriety  of  insisting  that  Dr.  Foster's  vigilance  in  guard 
ing  his  brother  must  be  such,  in  future,  as  to  prevent  his 
escaping  thus,  to  the  discomfort  and  danger  of  all  in  the 
neighborhood. 

Before  reaching  the  parsonage,  we  heard  the  deep  bay 
ing  of  a  blood-hound  borne  from  the  direction  where  Ethel 
had  secreted  the  stranger,  and  then  loud  shouts,  accom 
panied  by  a  frantic  yell,  such  as  he  uttered  when  with 
us  in  the  road,  upon  fancying  he  heard  the  voice  of 

• 

his  pursuers.  Ethel  turned  very  pale  as  she  said  to  Mr. 
Clifford, 

"  It  makes  me  perfectly  sick  to  think  of  the  dreadful 
treatment  that  wretched  being  may  be  subjected  to,  and  I 
d(o  think  the  matter  should  be  investigated,  and  his  suffer 
ings  relieved,  if  possible;  for  surely  Dr.  Foster  might 
be  compelled  to  send  his  brother  to  an  asylum.  Might  he 
not  ?" 

"I  scarcely  know,"  he  replied,  "yet  rather  fancy 
that  the  doctor  has  a  right,  as  his  brother,  to  retain  the 
lunatic  under  his  authority ;  particularly  if  there  still  re 
mains  a  hope  of  restoring  him  to  reason.  It  is  scarcely 
possible  that  he  would  support  such  a  burden,  unless 
influenced  by  affection;  and  yet  these  stories  of  cruel 
ty,  together  with  the  miserable  appearance  of  this 
crazy  man,  would  indicate  quite  the  contrary.  It  is 


THE    MANIAC.  133 

certainly  a  very  odd  affair,  calculated  to  excite  wonder  and 
sympathy." 

That  night  another  fearful  dream  arose  from  the  haunt 
ing  memories  of  our  startling  adventure,  in  which  Ethel 
and  myself  were  together,  wandering  through  a  dismal 
swamp,  where  a  perfect  curtain  of  grey  moss  swept  down 
from  gigantic  cypress  trees,  through  which  the  winds 
moaned  dolefully,  causing  the  moss  ,to  sway  back  and  forth 
with  a  dreary,  sighing  sound,  among  the  dark,  gaunt 
branches ;  for  it  was  winter,  and  the  oozy  soil  under  the 
cypress  trees  was  covered  with  dead  and  mouldy  leaves.  I 
thought  we  were  alone — lost  in  the  forest  amid  that  spec 
tral  gloom,  and  frighted  at  every  shadow  cast  by  a  faint 
and  shimmering  moonlight  across  our  path.  At  last  we 
came  to  the  borders  of  a  great,  black,  slimy-looking  lake, 
where  the  road  came  to  an  end,  cutting  off  all  possibility  of 
continuing  our  journey  in  that  direction,  while  to  retrace 
our  steps  through  the  swamp  was  almost  as  hopeless,  for 
we  knew  not  whither  to  turn  towards  home.  So  at  last, 
overcome  by  fear  and  weariness,  we  sat  down  weary  and 
desponding,  on  a  great  damp  log  and  wept  in  each  other's 
arms.  Soon  there  came  a  splashing  sound,  like  the  dip 
ping  of  oars  in  the  water,  and  then  we  strained  our  eyes 
over  the  dismal  lake,  hoping  for  some  friend  in  a  boat, 
who  would  take  us  to  Woodburn,  and  yet  fearing  that  it 
might  be  the  lunatic  again.  Presently  a  slight  canoe  came 
winding  to  shore,  through  the  green  slime,  in  which 


134  WOODBURN 

with  horror  we  beheld  Dr.  Foster's  crazy  brother.  Our 
terror  was  overpowering  and  voiceless,  for  neither  spoke, 
as  we  cowered  down  behind  that  great,  dark,  wet  log,  upon 
a  mould  of  rotten  leaves  and  moss,  to  hide  from  him,  but 
all  in  vain ;  for  pulling  up  the  canoe,  he  bounded  out  and 
came  leaping  towards  us,  with  peals  of  frantic  laughter,  as 
he  cried, — 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  have  found  you  at  last — come  on — for  I 
will  row  you  over  this  deep  black  lake  to  perdition,  for  be 
traying  me  as  you  did  by  sending  those  devils  to  the  hol 
low  oak,  where  she  pretended  to  hide  me — ha  !  ha  !  come 
along." 

Saying  which,  he  appeared  to  seize  and  drag  us  fiercely 
towards  the  boat,  into  whicn,  shoving  us  before  him  rudely, 
he  jumped,  and  catching  up  the  oars,  rowed  away  so 
swiftly,  that  the  swamp,  with  its  tall  cypress  trees,  soon 
faded  away  in  the  distance — while  before,  around  us, 
stretched  that  great  waste  of  slimy  water,  enveloped  in  a 
cloud  of  murky  fog.  Suddenly,  I  thought  the  maniac 
jumped  up,  flung  away  his  oars,  and  seizing  us  both  as  he 
shrieked, — 

"  Come  down  into  hell  with  me" — plunged  madly  into 
those  inky  deeps,  dragging  us  after  him ;  and  I  struggled, 
suffocating  with  the  sullen  water  and  the  thick,  clinging 
slime. 

Then,  quickly  as  we  had  gone  down,  were  we  snatched 
from  that  frightful'  grave,  and  by  daylight  breaking 


THE    MANIAC.  135 

through  the  fog,  found  ourselves  in  a  great  wide  boat, 
rowed  towards  a  pleasant  shore  by  Mr.  Clifford ; — when  I 
awoke  with  the  morning  sunlight  streaming  into  my  face 
through  the  parted  curtain,  as  Lucy  drew  back  and  whis 
pered, — 

"Young  ladies,  time  to  get  up,  it's  most  eight  o'clock." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SOME  LEAVES  FROM  PEARL'S  DIARY. 

The  summer  has  departed — ycster-eve 
I  saw  her  light  drop  down,  in  shining  rills, 

Among  the  sunset  clouds — as  streams  that  leave 
Their  shimmering  track — adown  the  purple  hills. 

SEPTEMBER  found  Pearl  still  at  the  parsonage,  much 
better — well  enough  to  "be  moved  to  the  parlor  sofa  for  a 
change — jet  still  very  feeble,  quite  unable  to  walk,  or 
even  put  her  foot  to  the  floor,  for  the  injury  to  her  hip 
was  severe — and  a  slight  lameness  seemed  almost  inevita 
ble — though  we  yet  hoped  that  time  and  care  might  over 
come  it,  as  she  was  still  so  very  young.  And  here  I  can 
scarcely  continue  this  story  so  satisfactorily,  as  by  inserting 
some  leaves  from  Pearl's  diary,  which  came  into  my  pos 
session  years  afterwards,  and  which,  of  course,  I  have  her 
full  permission  to  publish. 

September  10/A. — I  must  leave  the  parsonage ;  must  go 
home  to-morrow — would  that  I  had  gone  long  ago ;  for 
Rachel  Thorn  was  here  this  morning,  and  whispered  to  me 
at  parting — "  Pearl,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  go  home,  yes, 
even  if  it  killed  me — rather  than  remain  longer  in  the 


SOME   LEAVES   FROM    PEARL'S   DIARY.  1ST 

house  of  a  man  who  every  one  says  is  in  love  with  you. 
Indeed,  they  hint  that  his  love  is  not  unrequited — and  then 
Victor  is  so  awfully  jealous,  you  ought  not  to  stay  another 
hour."  Oh!  how  I  hated  her  for  that  cruel  speech,  and 
how  fiercely  I  threw  off  the  hand  and  arm  she  slily  tried 
to  wind  round  my  neck  while  speaking.  May  God  forgive 
me  for  being  so  angry — but  I  told  her  she  was  a  wicked, 
deceitful  wretch — that  no  one  had  ever  thought,  much  less 
said,  such  a  thing  save  herself,  and  she  only  did  so  to  tor 
ment  me.  It  was  wrong — but  I  am  quick,  and  her  speech 
was  so  brim-full  of  spite,  though  masked  by  pretended 
friendship  and  kindness.  And  then  the  provoking  way  in 
which  she  said  :  "  Don't  get  in  a  passion,  Pearl,  you'll 
make  yourself  worse  ;  I  only  meant  it  as  a  little  sisterly 
advice,  to  be  taken  or  rejected,  as  you  please — so,  good 
evening,"  and  off  she  glided  like  an  adder,  leaving,  as 
usual,  a  sting  behind  her !  Yet,  why  did  her  words  make 
me  so  angry  ?  tWere  they  entirely  untrue  ?  If  so,  why 
not  have  treated  them  with  cool  indifference  ?  No,  they 
were  not  untrue — far  from  it.  Cecil  Clare  does  care  for 
me — he  has  shown  it  in  a  hundred  ways — and  am  I  indif 
ferent  to  him  ?  Oh,  no,  my  poor  weak  heart  cannot  deny 
that  he  is  the  only  man  whose  coldness  or  indifference 
would  serve  to  make  me  utterly  wretched.  And  feeling 
so,  ought  I  to  remain  here  so  long  ?  Is  it  kind;  or  just 
to  Victor  (after  promising  that  I  would  try  to  love  him 
well  enough  to  be  his  wife)  for  me  to  remain,  from  day 


138  WOODBURN. 

to  day,  under  the  influence  of  one  who  is  drawing  my 
heart  off  further  every  hour  from  its  allegiance  ?  And 
innocently,  too ;  for  Mr.  Clare  regards  Victor  as  my 
brother,  and  does  not  dream  of  an  understanding  between 
us.  Victor  is  "jealous,"  as  Rachel  Thorn  said,  and  I 
have  not  yet  had  the  strength  or  resolution  to  speak  can 
didly,  as  cousin  Ethel  advised.  I  wonder  if  she  suspects 
the  real  reason  that  now  renders  it  impossible  for  me 
to  love  him  as  he  wishes  ?  Yet,  remaining  here,  has 
been  no  fault  of  mine — for  papa  and  Aunt  Kate  both 
vetoed  my  going  home  last  week,  though  I  almost  insisted 
upon  it ;  but  now,  after  what  Rachel  said  this  morning,  I 
cannot,  must  not  remain.  Papa  will  not  refuse  to  take  me 
back  to  Elgin  if  I  pine  to  go — but  do  I  pine  for  home  ? 
Alas  !  no,  and  spite  my  sufferings,  the  weeks  spent  here 
have  been  the  happiest  of  my  life.  Yet  I  will  say  it  is 
best  to  go ;  the  change  may  help  to  strengthen  me,  and  if 
Aunt  Kate  is  obstinate  in  refusing  her  consent,  I  shall  not 
scruple  to  tell  her  what  Rachel  Thorn  says. 

September  11^7*. — Just  as  I  finished  writing  yesterday, 
Cecjl  Clare  came  in  to  bring  me  a  bunch  of  violets ;  we 
were  quite  alone — so  I  told  him,  that  feeling  very  much 
better,  I  intended  asking  papa  to  take  me  home  the  next 
day.  "  My  stay  here  has  been  already  too  long,  and  caused 
dear  Mrs.  Clare  and  yourself  a  vast  deal  of  trouble,"  I 
said,  trying  to  smile,  as  I  looked  up  and  our  eyes  met. 

"  Trouble,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  how  can  you  make  use  of 


SOME   LEAVES   FROM   PEARL'S  DIARY.  139 

such  an  expression,  when  the  joy  I  have  in  seeing  you  is 
so  great,  and  my  mother  loves  you ; — do  you  want  to 
leave  us  then,  or  what  has  caused  this  sudden  determina 
tion  ?  For  Dr.  Foster  said  yesterday,  you  must  not  be 
moved  for  a  week." 

I  was  confused,  and  remained  silent,  while  toying  idly 
with  the  dewy  violets  he  had  given  me ;  for  how  could  I 
tell  him  what  Rachel  said,  and  what  other  excuse  was 
there  to  plead  for  disobeying  the  Doctor's  orders  ? 

"  Why  are  you  silent,"  he  said  at  last,  "  Miss  Dunbar  ? 
Has  anything  happened  to  offend  you  ?" 

The  name  sounded  cold  and  formal,  for  he  had  always 
called  me  Miss  Pearl  of  late. 

*"  No,  Mr.  Clare,"  I  answered,  "  nothing  but  the  greatest 
kindness  and  attention  have  I  received  in  this  house — what 
could  offend  me  ?  Both  you  and  your  mother  have  been 
all  devotion  to  me,  and  it  would  be  the  basest  ingratitude 
were  I  to  leave  even  a  shade  of  mystery  or  uncertainty 
over  the  cause  of  my  rather  sudden  departure.  I  was  told 
this  morning  by  a  friend — and  the  word  was  uttered  with 
sarcastic  bitterness — that  my  prolonged  stay  here  either 
was,  or  would  be,  a  subject  for  disagreeable  remarks," 
and  the  hot  blood  tingled  up  to  my  cheeks  while  speaking. 

"  Friend  !"  he  repeated  ;  "yes,  you  may  well  utter  that 
word  in  mockery,  for  I  happen  to  know  who  your  visitor 
was  this  morning,  just  before  I  came  in — and  can  well 
imagine  her  capable  of  such  malice ;  but  do  not  heed  it,  I 


140  WOODBURN. 

beg  of  you,  for,  even  were  I  living  here  alone,  the  constant 
presence  of  your  aunt  and  cousin  would  prevent  remark — 
and  with  my  mother — >oh  !  you  cannot,  will  not  be  driven 
away  by  such  an  abominable  piece  of  spite." 

He  spoke  so  earnestly,  and  appeared  evidently  so  wound 
ed  at  my  determination  to  leave,  that  at  last  I  consented  to 
remain  until  the  end  of  the  week.  There  would  be  some 
gratification,  too,  in  showing  Rachel  Thorn  that  her  opinion 
was  disdained  and  disregarded. 

September  12M. — Aunt  Kate  gave  me  a  package  to-day, 
brought  up  from  New  Orleans  by  Michael  Me  Alpine.  He 
is  a  son  of  the  good  old  Scotch  people  who  had  charge  of 
me  before  I  was  adopted  by  papa.  How  wonderful  it  is 
to  think  of  my  being  rescued  from  the  waves  by  a  fisher 
man,  upon  a  lonely  shore,  almost  dead,  and  tied  to  the 
broken  spar  of  a  shipwrecked  vessel !  I  can  scarcely 
realize  it.  How  merciful  and  good  is  the  God  who  pre 
served  me  from  a  watery  grave,  to  be  blessed  with  such 
true,  kind  friends,  and  such  a  lovely,  happy  home. 

Paine  McAlpine  is  dead,  and  her  last  request  to  her 
husband  was,  that  Michael  might  take  a  package  to  me 
containing  the  handkerchief  which  was  round  my  neck  and 
the  clothes  I  had  on  when  old  McAlpine  carried  me  home 
drenched  and  insensible  to  his  humble  cottage. 

Thus  runs  a  part  of  his  letter  to  papa: 

"My  dear  old  dame  'had  stowed  the  things  away  so 
carefully  she  forgot  all  abodt  them  until  after  you  had  re- 


SOME   LEAVES  FROM   PEARL'S   DIARY.  141 

moved  to  Elgin,  and  then  we  ventured  to  keep  them  as  a 
memento  of  the  bonnie  bairn  we  loved  so  dearly  for  two 
years — thinking  it  could  be  of  no  use.  having  no  name 
upon  it,  and  only  some  queer  worked  figures.  The  clothes 
she  had  on  were  torn,  but  my  poor  wife  put  them  all  care 
fully  by  in  a  trunk  with  the  handkerchief,  and  I  promised 
her  to  send  them  to  ye,  good  sir,  for  our  bonnie  bairn,  as 
perhaps  they  may  by  some  chance  yet  one  day  lead  to  a 
discovery  of  her  parents — though  God  bless  her  winsome 
face — I  doubt  me  not  she  is  an  orphan.  Michael  is  a  good 
lad,  and  if  you  can  find  employment  for  him  it  will  be  a 
blessed  day  for  us — as  the  fishing  business  is  rather  falling 
off  of  late,  I  can  barely  support  him,  poor  laddie,  and  scantily 
enough  too — so  he  wants  to  help  himself,  bless  his  brave 
heart !  and  I  think,  perhaps,  you  may  befriend  him — for 
which  the  Lord  will  bless  you  and  the  bonnie  bairn,  (^ho 
must  be  a  bonnie  lassie  now) — how  my  old  heart  would 
warm  with  a  sight  of  her  fair  face,  and  I  never  would  have 
given  her  up,  except  that  I  knew  ye  would  rear  her 
tenderly,  and  make  her  a  fine  lady,  as  she  ought  to  be,  for 
she's  a  born  lady  if  ever  there  was  one." 

Poor  old  man !  how  I  should  like  to  see  him,  and  the 
good  dame,  who  was  a  mother  to  me  for  two  years.  Alas  ! 
I  can  never  thank  her  now  for  all  that  kindness.  But 
papa  has  often  sent  them  money  in  my  name,  and  I  know 
he  will  always  continue  to  befriend  the  poor  lonely  old 
fisherman  who  rescued  me  from  drowning.  Michael  is  to 


142  WOODBURN. 

stay  at  Elgin,  aunty  says,  to  help  -work  in  the  garden,  and 
also  in  taking  care  of  the  horses.  I  am  so  glad,  and  I 
shall  take  such  pleasure  in  being  kind  to  the  motherless 
lad  who  used  to  call  me  his  little  sissey.  This  handker 
chief  is  a  dainty,  pretty  thing,  a  very  marvel  of  fine  needle 
work,  and  though  the  good  old  fisherman  and  his  dame 
could  find  nothing  but  queer  figures  upon  it,  I  can  see  very 
plainly  that  the  design  in  one  corner  is  a  crest — while 
those  delicate  vines  wrought  into  letters  round  the  other, 
form  themselves  into  "  Olivia."  I  wonder  if  that  was  my 
mother's  name,  and  if  she  was  lost  in  trying  to  save  my 
life  ?  And  these  pretty  little  baby  clothes  !  how  odd  to 
think  I  could  ever  have  worn  such  tiny  things.  There  is 
no  name  on  them.  Oh !  how  I  wish  they  had  been 
marked — and  yet  why?  I  am  perfectly  happy  as  Pearl 
Dunbar,  and  could  not  be  more  so  were  I  to  find  my  own 
parents — though,  of  course,  I  should  love  them,  oh  yes, 
so  dearly.  There  is  a  natural  instinct,  causing  the  hearts 
of  those  who  have  never  known  their  own  parents  to  yearn 
for  them  sometimes  as  I  do,  but  never  sadly,  or  repining 
— how  could  I  with  such  friends  and  such  a  home  ? 

September  \%th. — Mr.  Clifford  has  just  left,  after  pay 
ing  me  quite  a  long  visit.  What  a  noble,  true,  good  man 
he  is  !  I  do  wonder  how  he  ever  came  to  be  a  teacher  ? 
Not  that  there  is  anything  beneath  the  dignity  or  standing 
of  a  gentleman  in  teaching — but  then  it  is  so  tiresome,  and 
he  looks  too  grand  for  such  weary  work.  How  much 


SOME   LEAVES  FROM   PEARL'S   DIARY.  143 

cousin  Ethel  likes  him,  and  they  are  so  suited  for 
each  other !  He  loves  her,  I  am  sure,  every  look  and 
action  tells  it — and  how  could  it  be  otherwise  when  she  is 
so  fascinating  and  they  are  so  much  together  ?  I  wonder 
if  cousin  Ethel  knew  all  about  Mr.  Clifford,  if  she  would 
not  marry  him  ?  One  thing  is  certain,  she  never  blushes 
in  any  other  presence  but  his.  How  perfectly  absurd  it  is 
in  Rachel  Thorn  to  show  her  love  for  Mr.  Clifford  in  the 
way  she  does  !  every  one  sees  it,  and  also  that  it  is  scorned 
by  him.  Oh  !  the  cold  gleam  of  hatred  in  that  girl's  eye 
at  times  when  she  looks  at  her  rival  frightens  me, — she 
looks  capable  of  anything  and  everything  desperate,  and 
Dr.  Foster  too — their  eyes  are  wonderfully  alike — is  as 
jealous  of  Mr.  Clifford  as  Rachel  is  of  Ethel.  He  is  a 
good  physician,  and  I  thank  him  for  curing  me,  but  papa 
pays  him  liberally — so  that  I  am  at  liberty  (without  being 
ungrateful)  to  dislike  the  man,  and  I  do  most  cordially — 
for  he  looks  wicked,  and  I  cannot  help  believing  the  stories 
about  his  harshness  to  that  poor  lunatic  brother — for  when 
papa  spoke  to  Foster  about  the  propriety  of  keeping  a 
stricter  guard  over  him — after  that  evening  cousin  Ethel 
and  Amy  had  such  a  fright  in  the  woods — he  represented 
his  brother  as  such  a  "  furious  maniac,  that  even  with  the 
greatest  severity  and  the  strictest  watching  he  would  man 
age  to  escape  sometimes." 

"Then,"    said  papa,    "you    should   send  him   to   an 
asylum." 


144  WOODBURN. 

Upon  which  the  Doctor  pretended  that  he  had  such  great 
control  over  him  (even  in  his  wildest  moods)  there  might 
yet  be  some  chance  through  that  influence  of  eventually 
restoring  him  to  reason,  urging  this  as  a  plea  for  keep 
ing  the  poor  unfortunate  being  under  his  immediate  care. 
But  I  cannot  believe  his  motives  good,  nor  help  fancying 
he  has  some  hidden  mean  reason  for  this  apparent  act  of 
fraternal  devotion ;  he  is  a  selfish,  cold  man,  and  would 
never  assume  such  a  burden  unless  there  were  very  cogent 
reasons  urging  him  on.  Mr.  Clifford  thinks  pretty  much 
as  I  do  regarding  Dr.  Foster.  Oh  !  he  must  be  selfish  and 
vulgar  to  have  made  such  an  unfavorable  impression  on 
this  just  and  noble  Englishman,  who  is  so  careful  and  un 
prejudiced  in  his  judgments  of  people.  How  tender  and 
kind  is  the  interest  he  takes  in  me,  because  of  my  likeness 
to  a  dear,  lost  friend — partly — though  I  am  sure  Mr.  Clif 
ford  likes  me  for  my  own  sake  too.  I  wonder  if  the 
original  of  that  lovely  miniature,  which  they  flatter  me  by 
saying  I  resemble  so  much,  was  his  lady-love?  Perhaps 
so — for  I  doubt  not  his  history  is  full  of  interest  and  ro 
mance — he  looks  as  if  it  were,  and  I  am  sure  his  love  for 
Ethel  Linton,  with  Rachel's  jealousy  and  Dr.  Foster's,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  crazy  man,  is  enough  material  for  a 
novel,  and  if  I  were  as  clever  with  my  pen  as  Amy,  I'd  set 
about  writing  one  forthwith,  founded  on  all  these  strik 
ing  events. 

Then  there  is  poor,  dear  Victor,   too,  with  his   mad 


SOME   LEAVES  FROM   PEARL'S   DIARY.  145 

jealousy  of  Cecil  Clare.  Mercy !  I  wonder  why  people 
can't  live  without  falling  in  love  ?  The  last  time  he  was 
here,  Victor  said,  as  he  pressed  my  hand  almost  fiercely  at 
parting,  "  Pearl,  when  you  return  to  Elgin,  that  matter 
between  us  must  be  decided  positively ;  I  cannot  live  thus ; 
and  your  ultimate  decision  shall  influence  me,  whether  to 
remain  here,  or  go  abroad  for  years — perhaps  forever."  I 
grew  cold  and  faint,  and  would,  nay,  ought  to  have  spoken 
candidly  then,  as  Cousin  Ethel  bade  me,  but  lacked  the 
courage,  and  could  only  murmur,  half  inaudibly,  as  he  left 
me,  "  Yes,  we  will  talk  about  it  when  I  come  home." 

Ah !  how  perfectly  silly  it  was  in  me,  allowing  such  an 
opportunity  of  expressing  my  real  feelings  to  pass  in  this 
way.  Yet  I  am  feeble,  and  the  least  excitement  makes  my 
heart  beat  so  fast.  In  spite  of  what  Cousin  Ethel  says,  I 
fear  papa  and  Aunt  Kate  may  be  hurt  with  me  for  driving 
Victor  from  home,  as  he  will  be  sure  to  go  abroad  after 
hearing  my  decision ;  and  yet  how  can  I  help  it  ?  They 
have  always  been  so  kind,  let  me  not  doubt  their  forbear 
ance  on  this  trying  occasion. 

Elgin,  Sept.  20th. — My  diary  has  remained  unopened 
for  a  week,  and  no  wonder,  for  I  can  scarcely  command 
myself  even  now  sufficiently  to  relate  the  stirring  events 
which  occurred  the  day  after  my  last  notes  were  written, 
and  the  one  previous  to  that  on  which  I  left  the  parsonage. 
The  evening  was  so  lovely,  that  Mrs.  Clare  had  my  sofa 
rolled  up  close  to  the  library  window,  opening  on  to  a 

7 


146  WOODBURN. 

little  verandah  overlooking  the  garden,  and  as  I  had  a 
pleasant  book  to  read,  Aunt  Kate  and  my  kind  hostess  left 
me  there  for  awhile  alone,  while  they  went  off  for  a  drive. 
^Cecil  Clare  was  absent  in  town,  and  not  expected  home 
until  dark.  How  I  enjoyed  the  sweet  sunny  breeze  that 
crept  in  to  me  through  the  window,  loaded  with  the  bitter 
aroma  of  the  Madeira  vine  with  which  the  verandah  is 
covered !  How  sweet  it  was,  after  such  a  long  confinement 
and  so  much  suffering,  to  be  so  near  the  outer  world  of 
beauty  and  fragrance  once  more.  I  read  but  little,  for  my 
heart  was  out  in  the  garden,  with  the  merry  little  birds 
among  the  autumn  roses,  and  then  off  to  Elgin  with  poor 
Frolic,  wondering  if  I  should  ever  ride  him  again  ?  And 
then  I  fancied  myself  mounted  once  more  on  my  little 
favorite,  galloping  through  the  grand  magnolia  grove  be 
tween  here  and  Woodburn,  as  once  I  did  with  Cecil  Clare, 
just  before  that  fearful  accident  which  has  lamed  me  per 
haps  for  life.  The  warm  air,  the  song  of  birds,  the  hum 
of  bees  among  the  .vines,  were  soothing,  and  lulled  me  so 
pleasantly,  that  from  waking  dreams  I  passed  gradually 
into  a  soft  and  peaceful  slumber,  which  lasted  I  know  not 
exactly  how  long,  though  it  was  yet  quite  light,  when, 
startled  by  a  slight  noise,  and  that  mesmeric  influence  pro 
duced  by  the  light  of  waking  eyes  on  the  mind  of  a  sleeper, 
I  awoke,  beneath  the  gaze  of  Cecil  Clare,  who  stood  there, 
bending  upon  me  a  look  I  had  never  seen  so  fully  expressed 
in  his  face  before.  A  look  of  deep,  unutterable  tenderness, 


SOME   LEAVES  FROM   PEARL'S   DIARY.  147 

long  hidden,  and  thus  suddenly  breaking  forth,  mingled  as 
it  was  with  the  full  and  perfect  purity  of  holiness  within, 
illuminated  his  countenance  as  sublimely  as  the  halo  of 
glory  emanating  from  the  heads  of  pictured  saints  and 
apostles. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  here,  Mr.  Clare?"  I  faltered 
out,  striving  to  hide  my  agitation  as  best  I  might.  "  Your 
mother  did  not  expect  you  until  dark,  and  this  may  possi 
bly  account  for  the  unusual  circumstance  of  my  being  here 
alone,  and  asleep  in  your  sanctum  sanctorum,  where  I  was 
tempted  to  come  at  Mrs.  Clare's  suggestion,  because  this 
window,  opening  down  to  the  verandah,  affords  such  a 
beautiful  view  of  the  garden.  Aunt  Kate  has  taken  your 
mother  off  for  a  drive,  and  I  fancy  they  will  be  back  before 
long ;  so  now  that  you  have  my  apology  for  being  an  in 
truder  here,  please  push  my  sofa  back  into  the  parlor  again, 
will  you?" 

My  manner  was  full  of  confusion,  though  I  strove  in  vain 
to  hide  it, — for  still  those  deep,  clear  eyes  were  shining  on 
me,  earnestly  and  full  of  love. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "I  cannot  help  you  back  into  the  par 
lor,  nor  allow  you  to  leave  this  spot.  Pearl,  until  you  hear 
what  I  have  to  say,  what  must  be  said  before  you  leave 
this  house,  for  you  are  strong  enough  to  answer  me  now. 
I  love  you  dearly,  devotedly,  Pearl,  and,  child  as  you 
are,  would  have  you  promise  to  be  my  wife.  Tell  me. 


148  WOODBURN. 

could  you  be  content  to  dwell  with  me  in  this  quiet  little 
home  ?" 

He  caught  my  hand,  and,  sinking  down  on  his  knees 
beside  the  sofa,  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  ere  I  could  suffi 
ciently  command  myself  to  falter  out,— 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Clare,  stop,  I  implore  you  !  Don't  say  any 
thing  more  on  this  subject  now ;  for  I  have  no  right  to 
listen — nay,  must  not,  being  almost  pledged  to  Victor  Dun- 
bar,  who  has  loved  me  from  childhood,  and  whom  I  have 
promised  to  try  and  love  in  return." 

The  words  were  scarcely  past  my  lips,  and  he  still  clung 
to  my  hand  as  if  bound  by  a  spell  not  to  be  broken, 
when  there  was  a  sudden  rush  from  the  parlor,  for  we 
were  just  opposite  the  door,  accompanied  by  a  frantic  ex 
clamation  of  anger,  which  caused  Cecil  Clare  to  start  up — 
only  for  a  moment,  and  then  stagger,  falling  heavily  back 
wards  on  to  the  verandah  floor,  beneath  a  fierce  blow  dealt 
upon  his  head  by  Victor,  who  stood  by  me,  white,  and 
trembling  with  rage. 

"Lie  there,  you  sneaking,  hypocritical  parson!"  he 
cried :  "  I'll  teach  you  to  rob  me  of  the  treasure  I  coveted 
so  madly  !  And  you,  Pearl — perfidious,  ungrateful  girl — 
whom  I  have  loved  so  dearly  ever  since  your  childhood, 
how  could  you  so  basely  deceive  me  into  believing  that  you 
had  the  wish,  the  will,  and  would  at  least  try  to  return  my 
affection,  while  thus  encouraging  this  strange  preacher,  and 
suffering  all  my  hopes  to  be  crushed  so  suddenly,  without 


SOME   LEAVES  FROM   PEARL'S   DIARY.  149 

one  word  of  warning,  by  finding  you  thus  almost  in  his 
arms !" 

These  words  rained  out  in  such  a  perfect  torrent  of  fury 
that  I  scarcely  drew  my  breath  while  he  was  uttering 
them ;  and  then,  ere  there  was  time  to  reply,  he  had  gone, 
as  suddenly  as  he  came,  and  I  saw  him  in  a  moment  after 
wards,  through  the  long  parlor  window  opposite,  riding  at  a 
frantic  pace  down  the  avenue. 

What  could  I  do  ?  To  move  from  the  sofa  was  impossi 
ble,  for  I  was  unable  to  stand ;  and  there  lay  Cecil  Clare, 
the  man  I  loved — though  strengthened  to  check  his  avowal 
of  affection  from  a  sense  of  duty— prostrate  and  insensible, 
on  the  verandah,  against  the  iron  trellis  work  of  which  he 
had  fallen,  cutting  his  head,  and  from  this  wound  the 
blood  was  pouring,  while  I  sat  gazing  upon  him,  cold,  sick, 
and  for  a  few  moments,  bereft  of  voice,  as  well  as  the 
power  of  moving.  At  last,  by  a  great  effort  throwing  off 
this  dumb  dread,  I  called  loudly  to  the  servants  for  help, 
but  they  were  not  within  hearing,  as  no  answer  came. 
Then,  when  almost  exhausted  from  calling,  a  desperate  re 
solution  possessed  me  to  slide  down  from  the  sofa,  and 
try  at  least  with  my  handkerchief  to  staunch  the  blood 
trickling  down  that  white  still  face;  but  just  as  I 
turned,  in  making  an  effort  to  move  from  the  sofa,  there 
was  a  ring  at  the  front  door  bell,  when  mustering  all  my 
failing  strength,  I  called  for  help  so  loudly  that  Mr.  Clif 
ford  was  at  my  side  almost  before  the  bell  had  ceased  ring- 


150  WOODBURN. 

ing.  At  one  glance  he  comprehended  the  whole,  and  Cecil 
Clare  was  lifted  up,  carried  by  that  powerful  man  into  the 
parlor  and  rested  in  a  great  easy  chair,  before  I  could  ut 
ter  one  word  of  explanation ;  indeed,  my  senses  were  so 
completely  stunned  by  what  had  happened,  and  terror 
overcame  me  so  entirely,  it  was  not  until  after  Mr.  Clif 
ford  succeeded  in  restoring  Cecil  Clare  to  consciousness 
that  the  cold,  wretched  feeling  which  had  possessed  me 
gave  way,  and  then,  falling  back  on  my  pillow,  I  burst 
into  a  passion  of  tears — always  such  a  blessed  relief  to 
high-strung  natures,  and  but  for  this  I  must  certainly,  after 
such  terrible  excitement,  have  relapsed  into  fever. 

When  sufficiently  calm,  I  informed  Mr.  Clifford,  as 
briefly  as  possible,  of  all  that  had  happened,  for  the  cir 
cumstances  required  that  he  should  receive  my  fullest  con 
fidence.  Part,  at  least,  he  had  surmised  from  Victor's 
distracted  manner,  as  they  had  passed  each  other  on  the 
road,  for  though  he  had  called  out  to  know  "if  anything 
was  the  matter,"  Victor  made  no  reply,  and  dashed  on. 

Cecil  Clare  had  been  stunned  into  insensibility,  and  soon 
recovered,  having  received  no  real  injury  save  the  cut  on 
his  head,  which  was  not  very  deep,  so  that  the  blood  was 
quickly  staunched,  and  save  an  excessive  paleness,  there 
remained  no  evidence  of  Victor's  violence  in  his  appear 
ance  when  Mrs.  Clare  and  my  aunt  returned,  for  the  cut 
was  easily  concealed  by  the  great  waving  masses  of  his  fair 
hair ;  so  we  agreed  not  to  speak  of  the  event  which  might 


SOME    LEAVES   FROM   PEARL'S  DIARY.  151 

be  kept  secret  between  us,  and  was  calculated  to  cause 
great  pain  to  the  friends  of  both  parties  ;  therefore,  ere  the 
ladies  returned  from  riding,  Mr.  Clifford  had  left  for  Elgin, 
where  he  hoped  to  see  Victor  before  there  had  been  time 
for  him  to  speak  to  his  father  upon  the  subject,  which  he 
would  be  sure  to  do  when  that  fierce  fit  of  passion  wore 
off,  leaving  him  to  reflec.t  clearly  upon  the  madness  and 
wickedness  of  his  conduct.     I  wrote  a  hurried  note  to  him 
by  Mr.  C.,  stating  exactly  what  had  passed  between  Mr. 
Clare  and  myself,  showing  him  how  hasty  and  unjust  he 
had  been  towards  me,  as  I  had  no  thought  of  encouraging 
the  love  of  any  other  man,  while  bound  by  a  promise  to 
him,  from  which  I  had  intended  to  absolve  myself  immedi 
ately  upon  returning  to  Elgin,  having  found  it  impossible 
to  love  him  otherwise  than  as  a    brother,  and,  had  I  ever 
wavered  in  this  intention,  his  conduct  upon  the  present  oc 
casion  certainly  confirmed  me  in  it,  and  that  henceforth  he 
must  not  think  of  me,  save  as  a  sister  deeply  distressed 
and  mortified  at  his  sinful  and  unreasonable  fury." 

My  prayers  were  more  fervent  than  usual  that  night. 
I  had  much  to  be  thankful  for,  as  Cecil  Clare  might  have 
been  killed  by  that  dreadful  blow, — and  the  declaration  of 
his  love  had  taught  me  hoAV  dark  a  shadow  would  have 
fallen  upon  my  existence,  had  Victor's  violence  resulted 
fatally;  and  then  I  prayed  for  him  too,  my  poor  dear 
adopted  brother,  whose  love  for  me  was  so  overpowering, 
it  caused  him  to  forget  God,  Heaven,  everything  but  his 
own  wild  passion. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

PEARL'S   DIARY    CONTINUED. 

Though  jealousy  be  near  akin  to  love, 
Yet  nurse  them  not  together — for  if  so, 
Be  thy  love  blessed — yea,  even  thrice  blessed 
Tainted  by  jealousy,  it  will  corrode. 
If  unrequited — jealousy  doth  spoil 
The  purity  and  perfectness  of  love  ; 
With  its  fierce  passions,  'til  they  change 
To  dark  deformities. 

September  21s#. — The  next  morning  early,  an  answer 
came  to  the  hurried  note  I  had  sent  over  by  Mr.  Clifford 
to  Victor,  which  ran  thus : 

"  Pearl,  my  sister — for  now,  alas !  I  know  you  can  never 
be  more  to  me.  My  dear  sister,  will  you,  can  you  ever 
forgive  the  madness  and  wickedness  of  my  conduct  last 
evening  ?  Your  note,  of  course,  exonerates  you  from  all 
blame,  and  renders  my  behavior  even  more  culpable  than 
it  would  have  been  had  I  felt  assured  that  Cecil  Clare  was 
your  accepted  lover,  (which  the  circumstances  warranted 
me  in  believing  for  a  moment),  yet  even  had  that  been  a 
certainty,  there  is  not  the  slightest  excuse  for  the  sinful 
fury  which  might  have  left  the  brand  of  Cain  upon  my 


PEARL'S  DIARY  CONTINUED.  153 

brow.  Forgive  the  folly  inducing  me  to  believe  it  possible 
you  might  in  time  learn  to  love  me,  for  it  was  evident  from 
your  manner  of  granting  the  promise,  that  it  was  given 
entirely  for  my  sake,  and  because  you  thought  from  what 
I  said  that  my  father  and  Aunt  Kate  wished  it.  Let  me 
then  absolve  you  from  that  unwilling  pledge,  and  if  you 
love  Cecil  Clare — as  I  believe  you  do,  Pearl — let  not  a 
thought  of  me  interfere  with  your  happiness,  despite  the 
foolish  abuse  I  heaped  upon  him  last  evening.  I  know  he 
is  good  and  true,  and  far  more  worthy  of  you  than  I  am, 
or  ever  can  be ;  and  yet  I  craved  the  blessing  of  your 
love  God  only  knows  how  much,  and  its  possession  might 
perhaps  have  made  me  a  better  and  a  humbler  man,  though 
as  good  Aunt  Kate  says,  his  almighty  wisdom  knows  what 
is  best  for  us.  I  would  have  told  my  father  all,  but  Mr. 
Clifford,  good,  noble  Mr.  Clifford,  advised  me  to  spare  him 
the  pain  of  knowing  the  part  I  acted  in  that  shameful 
scene  of  yesterday,  as  fortunately,  the  injury  sustained  by 
Mr.  Clare  is  not  serious  enough  to  render  its  exposure 
necessary,  and  therefore  I  only  told  our  Father  that  you 
found  it  impossible  to  love  me,  except  as  a  brother,  freeing 
you  from  all  blame  in  the  matter,  and  assuring  him  that 
you  had  acted  most  honorably — so  do  not  fear  on  your 
return  to  Elgin  to  speak  freely  with  him  on  the  subject 
Pearl,  for  believe  me  you  are  as  dear  to  that  noble  heart 
as  I  am,  and  were  he  to  blame  either  of  us,  I  am  sure  it 

would  be  me,  knowing  as  he  does,  my  passionate  nature. 

7* 


154  WOODBURN. 

Show  this  letter  if  you  wish  to  Cecil  Clare,  and  beg  his 
forgiveness.  Pray  for  me,  Pearl,  for  I  am  very,  very 
wretched.  Being  unable  to  risk  my  fortitude  so  far  as  to 
see  you  again,  and  yet  miserable  at  the  thought  of  leaving 
home  for  an  indefinite  time  without  bidding  you  a  last 
farewell,  I  shall  go  this  afternoon,  as  my  kind  father  has 
given  his  consent,  and  furnished  ample  means  for  me  to 
travel  abroad,  so  long  as  it  may  suit  me  to  remain.  There 
is  a  fearful  struggle  going  on  between  the  love  I  have 
cherished  for  you  since  childho*od,  which  has  possessed  and 
encouraged  the  better  part  of  my  nature,  and  the  madness 
of  my  jealousy,  which  springing  from  the  worse  and 
stronger  part,  threatens  to  conquer,  destroy,  blot  out  all 
that  is  good  and  pure  within  me.  When  I  can  pray,  it 
shall  be  for  your  happiness,  and  you  shall  hear  from  me 
again  when  I  can  write  more  calmly  as 

"  Your  devoted  brother, 

"VICTOR." 

I  wept  over  this  letter,  and  longed  to  see  the  writer 
once  more,  yet  dreading  another  outbreak,  forbore  to  urge 
his  coming  over  to  say  "  good-bye,"  and  determined  upon 
postponing  my  return  home,  fixed  for  that  day,  until  the 
following,  when  he  would  certainly  have  left.  Poor  aunty 
Kate  was  in  great  distress  when  informed  that  all  was  over 
between  Victor  and  myself,  and  went  off  to  pack  his  trunk 
with  a  sadder  heart,  I  fancy,  than  she  had  borne  since  the 
night  they  were  summoned  to  my  side  after  that  dreadful 


PEARL'S  DIARY  CONTINUED.  155 

fall.  Yet  Ethel  was  right.  Neither  my  dear  papa  nor  aunt 
Kate  blame  me  for  not  marrying  Victor,  though  such  a 
union  would  have  made  them  very  happy.  They  know 
nothing  yet  of  Cecil's  love.  I  gave  him  Victor's  message, 
but  did  not  show  the  letter,  as  it  refers  to  my  love  for  him 
as  almost  a  certainty,  and  I  could  not  allude  to  that  sub 
ject,  save  so  far  as  to  remark  (as  I  did)  that  Victor  was 
going  abroad,  and  we  were  in  future  to  be  as  brother  and 
sister  only. 

Just  then  our  conversation  was  interrupted,  but  his  face 
lit  up  with  joy,  when  I  uttered  these  words,  and  the  for 
giveness  his  rival  craved  was  most  freely  granted.  Hopeful 
lovers  can  afford  to  be  generous  on  such  occasions — but 
Cecil  Clare  is  good  and  pure  enough  to  be  equally  so  even 
to  a  successful  rival. 

September  25th. — It  is  so  strange  at  Elgin  without 
Victor,  and  yet  though  we  miss  him  so,  I  am  glad  for  his 
sake  that  he  has  gone — as  the  quiet  monotony  of  a  coun 
try  home  life  would  have  been  insupportable  in  his  pres 
ent  unhappy  and  excited  state.  Poor  Amy  is  altered 
since  he  left,  and  has  lost  half  her  sprightliness.  Yes 
terday,  when  Bang — Victor's  favorite  dog — came  and 
rested  his  head  on  her  lap,  as  she  bent  over  him  I  saw  the 
big  tears  dropping  sadly  from  her  pale  cheeks  upon  that 
faithful  creature's  shaggy  head,  who,  missing  his  master, 
goes  whining  about  the  house  and  yard  as  if  seeking  the 
absent  one.  Amy  is  not  such  a  perfect  child  after  all, 


156  WOODBURN. 

being  in  her  sixteenth  year,  and  wonderfully  matured. 
Perhaps  when  Victor  returns  to  find  her  grown  up  a  bright 
and  beautiful  woman,  as  she  promises  to  be,  he  may  fall  in 
love  with  her.  She  is  certainly  well  suited  for  him,  being 
so  clever  and  appreciating,  and  I  do  hope  it  may  be  ordered 
thus. 

Archey  was  here  this  morning  with  a  note  for  me  from 
cousin  Ethel.  The  boy  was  possessed,  as  usual,  to  chatter 
about  Dr.  Foster  and  his  crazy  brother,  and  also  of  a  matter 
which  astonished  me  not  a  little,  viz.  : — a  sudden  and  unac 
countable  intimacy  between  Dr.  Foster  and  Rachel  Thorn. 
They  are,  to  be  sure,  enough  alike  in  disposition  to  be  con 
genial  spirits  ;  yet,  his  constant  effort  to  avoid  her  at  first, 
makes  this  recent  friendship  appear  most  singular.  I  only 
wish  he  would  fall  in  love  with  Rachel,  and  persuade  her 
to  accept  a  home  at  the  Glen — she  is  to  me  like  a  dark 
shadow  in  the  midst  of  so  much  brightness  and  beauty  at 
Woodburn. 

The  Glen  is  a  fine  old  place,  and  I  rather  fancy  she  is 
mercenary  enough  to  be  tempted  thereby  into  marrying  its 
master,  even  in  spite  of  her  ridiculous  love  for  Mr.  Clifford, 
knowing  as  she  must,  that  it  is  hopeless.  But  the  Doctor's 
aspirations,  unfortunately,  aim  at  rather  a  higher  prize  than 
Rachel  Thorn. 

Eugh  !  it  makes  me  sick  to  think  of  that  great,  pom 
pous,  vulgar  lump  of  humanity  in  the  shape  of  a  doctor 
(stuffed  into  broadcloth)  having  the  assurance  to  love  Ethel 


PEARL'S  DIARY  CONTINUED.  157 

Linton !     But  I  must  not  forget  Archey's  funny  communi 
cation. 

"  Miss  Pearl,"  he  said,  shuffling  up  to  me,  hat  in  hand, 
"  just   as  sure  as  we  is  livin',  dar  is  sumpin  or  anudder 
gwying  on  twixt  dat  dar  strange  doctor  and  de  young  white 
'oman  massa  'lows  to  live  at  Woodlurn — sum  of  de  niggers 
calls  her  '  Miss  Rachel,'  but  I  speaks  of  her  all  de  time  as 
'  Miss  Torn,'  for  she's  nun  of  my  mistress,  and  I  was  never 
no  ways  sociable  wid  her.     Well,  long  about  a  week  or  two 
past,  I's  seed  dem  two  walkin'  togedder  in  de  lane  back  of 
our  house,  wid  dar  heads  close  enough  togedder  to  be 
hatchin'  mischief,  and  whenebber  dey  sees  me  or  anybody 
cumin'  she  bows  and  goes  back  to  de  house,  as  if  dey  had 
met  on  accident,  den  he  walks  off  to  de  quarter  and  gits 
on  his  horse  to  go  home  ;  and  dey's  been  a  doin'   so  ebber 
since  the  doctor's  been  tendin'  on  uncle  Abe.     Lord  Miss, 
how  dis  nigger  chuckles  when  he  see  dat  little  sly  white 
'oman  bow  and  walk  off  as  if  she  jist  happened  to  be  dar, 
and  did'nt  care  'bout  stoppin'  to  talk  wid  de  doctor ;  and 
well  I  might  chuckle,  for  I's  watched  um  two  or  tree  times 
while  I  was  squattin'  down  behind  de  corn-shucks  piled  up 
in  de  barn  lot,  and  dey  thought  deyselves  all  alone — and 
if  you  bleve  me,  I  was  dar  watchin'  um  de  fust  day  she 
went  out  dar  and  overtook  him  as  he  went  down  from  see 
ing  massa  at  de  house.     Den  she  whispered  sumpin  in  his 
ear  which  he  did'nt  seem  to  like,  for  he  turned  as  white  as 
your  hand,  miss,  and  then  when  she  whispered  again,  look- 


158  WOODBURN. 

ing  up  right  quick  at  her,  he  said,  '  because  you  'oman'a 
have  sich  damned  long  tongues ' — begging  your  pardon, 
Miss, — '  but  if  your's  is  too  long,  I'll  cut  it  out  for  you.' 
Gosh  !  but  dis  nigger  hugged  de  corn-shucks  close  den,  for 
he  looked  as  savage  as  a  meat  axe." 

I  reproved  the  boy,  filing  him  he  had  no  right  to  listen 
to  the  conversation  of  white  people ;  and  that  Miss  Ethel 
would  be  provoked  at  him  for  it. 

"I  don't  be  given  to  it,  mam,"  he  replied ;  "  but  blast 
me  if  I  kin  help  watchin'  dem  two,  for  dey  both  looks  so 
monstus  wicked  like.  Dat's  all  I  heered  um  say,  and  I'll 
try  not  to  listin  no  more  if  you  wishes  it,  Miss,"  and 
Archey  bowed  himself  out. 

It  was  a  queer  conversation,  and  I  shall  certainly  talk 
the  matter  over  with  cousin  Ethel.  The  doctor  thinks  a 
month  more  of  care  will  put  me  on  my  feet  again,  with  the 
assistance  of  a  crutch.  I  hope  so,  as  that  will  be  in  time 
for  the  Christmas  tree.  Poor  Victor  !  'it  is  so  sad  to  think 
he  will  not  be  one  of  our  party.  Michael  McAlpine  proves 
a  good  lad,  and  takes  such  an  interest  in  the  flowers,  that 
Aunt  Kate  has  given  him  almost  entire  charge  of  them. 
He  brings  a  fresh  bouquet  to  my  room  every  morning,  and 
I  find  great  pleasure  in  asking  him  questions  about  the  two 
years  I  lived  in  his  father's  cottage,  for  he  is  several  years 
my  senior,  and  often  had  charge  of  me  when  I  was  to  him 
as  a  sister.  It  is  hard  to  realize  that  I  should  have  lived  in 
a  fisherman's  cottage,  as  a  daughter  to  those  poor,  good 


PEARL'S  DIARY  CONTINUED.       159 

people  !  And  yet,  I  must  be  the  child  of  gentlefolks,  else 
that  dainty  handkerchief  would  not  have  been  about  my 
neck,  and  the  clothes  I  wore  would  not  have  been  so  fine. 
How  I  delight  in  looking  at  that  delicate  work,  the  crest, 
and  the  name,  too — my  mother's  name  it  must  be — so 
gracefully  embroidered — wondering  if  the  future  will  ever 
reveal  my  real  name  ? 

Mr.  Clifford  comes  over  every  evening  after  school  to 
hear  my  French  and  German  lessons.  It  is  a  real  pleasure 
to  learn  from  such  a  master — so  delicate  in  his  feeling,  so 
considerate,  so  full  of  manly  kindness  !  I  do  wonder  if 
uncle  Percy  can  see  cousin  Ethel  and  Mr.  Clifford  so  much 
together  without  thinking  that  they  may  happen  to  fall  in 
love  with  each  other  ?  Poor,  dear,  beautiful  Ethel ! — if 
they  could  only  have  met  before  her  first  miserable  mar 
riage  !  Yet,  when  I  suggested  this  to  Cecil  Clare,  the 
other  day,  he  looked  very  grave,  and  said : 

"  Don't  suppose,  because  events  are  contrary  to  what 
our  feeble  judgment  may  deem  best,  that  it  is  so,  or  that 
we  could  better  the  order  of  things  by  arranging  them  to 
suit  ourselves — for,  by  cultivating  such  thoughts,  we  put 
our  little  mite  of  earthly  wisdom  up  in  opposition  to  that 
Almighty  one  who  never  has  erred  and  never  can  err. 
Had  your  cousin  met  Mr.  Clifford  in  her  early  youth,  they 
might  not  have  been  congenial  in  disposition  and  temper, 
at  they  now  appear  to  be,  for  she  has  doubtless  been  soft 
ened  and  strengthened  by  early  trials ;  and,  though  we 


160  WOODBURN. 

know  nothing  of  his  history,  there  is  a  sad,  firm,  Calm  look 
about  Mr.  Clifford,  which  indicates  that  he  has  borne  some 
heavy  weight  of  sorrow  patiently,  and  met  reverse  of  for 
tune  bravely  as  a  man ;  resignedly  as  a  Christian.  Perhaps 
they  both  needed  this  to  make  them  what  they  now  are, 
and  (if  destined  for  each  other)  it  is  far  better  they  never 
met  until  now ;  for  God  orders  all  things  well.  Suppose 
you,  or  I,  or  any  other  human  being,  had  the  government 
and  direction  of  everything  even  on  this  little  globe  of 
ours  (to  say  nothing  of  the  boundless  universe)  for  one 
day,  how  would  it  end  ?  In  misery,  confusion,  and  ruin. 
Let  us  not  then  even  presume,  in  the  weakness  of  human 
folly,  to  doubt  the  wisdom  of  God." 

It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  possess  the  confiding  faith  of  a 
true  Christian,  there  are  few  so  pure  and  good  and  wise  in 
their  Christianity  as  Cecil  Clare. 

October  21st. — Victor  has  been  absent  a  month,  and 
though  Cecil  Clare  has  been  a  constant  visitor  at  Elgin 
since  his  departure,  not  one  word  in  reference  to  that  fear 
ful  scene,  which  occurred  between  them  at  the  parsonage, 
ever  escaped  his  lips  until  last  night,  when  he  asked 
me  if  I  were  quite  sure  that  all  understanding  between 
Victor  and  myself  of  a  tender  nature  was  at  an  end  ?  and 
upon  being  answered  very  positively  in  the  aflirmative,  he 
said  a  great  deal,  which  might  look  very  foolish  written, 
being  doubtless  but  a  repetition  of  love-making — though 
perhaps  somewhat  different  in  style  from  that  fair  antedi- 


.  PEARL'S  DIARY  CONTINUED.  161 

luvian  morning,  or  evening,  when  Adam  whispered  soft 
nothings  to  his  lovely  companion  amid  the  bowers  of  Eden, 
down  to  the  present  time — yet  the  voice  of  his  wooing 
filled  my  heart  with  a  joy  unknown  before,  a  joy  too  per 
fect  to  pall,  and  now  that  I  am  pledged  to  Cecil  Clare,  with 
the  consent  and  blessing  of  all  who  love  me,  my  heart 
overflows  with  gratitude  to  that  Almighty  Friend,  whose 
protecting  care  rescued  the  shipwrecked  child,  and  again 
saved  the  girl's  life  when  in  almost  as  fearful  danger,  to 
bring  her  thus  to  an  earthly  haven  of  peace  and  happiness. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

* 

RACHEL   THORN'S  BANISHMENT. 

Autumn  has  gone — whose  soft  and  hazy  skies 

Wear  a  sad  look  of  summer  to  the  last, 
Even  as  memory's  light  within  the  eyes 

Of  some  fair  matron  dreaming  o'er  the  past. 

How  hard  it  is  to  realize  the  changes  sometimes  occur- 
ing  in  a  few  short  months  ! 

From  the  last  date  of  Pearl's  diary  up  to  January  1st, 
events  so  unexpected  (and  some  of  them  very  startling) 
transpired,  crowding  each  other  with  a  rapidity  perfectly 
bewildering.  After  Victor's  departure,  Elgin  was  never 
the  same  place  to  me  ;  Pearl's  lameness  necessarily  made  a 
difference  too  ;  the  house  was  far  more  quiet  than  formerly. 
Our  rides  were  less  frequent,  and  never  so  pleasant  either 
to  Ralph  or  myself,  for  we  missed  those  two  bright  absent 
ones — Victor  far  away,  and  Pearl  so  lame  that  the  ques 
tion  of  her  ever  being  able  to  ride  again  was  a  doubtful 
one.  My  brother  grew  pale  and  sentimental  after  Pearl's 
engagement,  read  Byron  assiduously,  sang  forlorn  love 
ditties,  and  for  several  months  looked  the  picture  of  a  youth 
laboring  under  a  weight  of  disappointed  affection.  We 


KACHEL  THORN'S  BANISHMENT.      163 

knew  his  malady  to  be  only  temporary  in  its  nature,  and 
therefore  both  Ethel  and  myself  teased  him  without  mercy, 
until  at  last  in  a  fit  of  desperation  he  eschewed  sentimen 
tality  in  toto,  and  thereafter  we  missed  his  copy  of  Byron 
from  the  centre-table,  wherein  sundry  and  divers  passages' 
(of  great  significance  in  his  case)  had  been  fiercely  marked, 
while  in  places  of  sentimental  airs  we  heard  him  whistling 
the  gayest  tunes  from  comic  operas.  Poor  Ralph  !  he  was 
for  a  while  very  fretful  and  discontented,  and  evidently 
suffered  more  from  this  first  disappointment  than  we  sup 
posed  his  light  and  joyous  disposition  capable  of  suffering 
from  such  a  cause. 

My  temperament  is  too  elastic,  too  full  of  vigorous  vital 
ity,  to  yield  readily  to  depression,  and  my  regret  at  Victor's 
absence  was  from  the  first  brightened  by  a  hope  of  his 
returning  (perhaps  sooner  than  was  anticipated^  when  on 
moon-lit  eves  to  come  in  riding  and  walking  together,  he 
will  think  more  of  me,  and  less  of  another,  than  in  the  by 
gone  times  when  I  was  petted  as  "little  coz."  For  time 
was  passing,  and  I  would  not  always  be  a  child. 

Before  the  end  of  autumn  Dr.  Foster  was  generally 
looked  upon  as  a  discarded  lover  of  Ethel,  and  the  truth  is 
he  had  addressed  her  more  than  once,  dwelling  upon  his 
great  wealth  as  an  inducement  for  her  acceding  to  his  pro 
posals,  and  "a  home  anywhere  she  pleased." 

"  The  idea  of  a  home  anywhere,  even  were  it  an  earthly 
paradise,  with  such  a  man,"  she  exclaimed  when  telling 


164  WOODBURN. 

me  about  it,  "  and  then  the  '  crazy  creeter,'  as  Archey  is 
pleased  to  call  that  poor  unfortunate  lunatic  !  Amy,  what 
a  time  I  would  have  with  the  fat  vulgar  doctor,  the  black 
giant  Gabe,  that  ferocious  blood-hound  Wolf,  and  the  crazy 
man  !  mercy !  what  a  charming  little  family  circle."  And 
then  she  laughed  so  gayly.  Oh !  my  darling  sister,  how 
sadly  that  merry  ringing  laugh  echoed  in  my  memory 
at  no  very  distant  period.  Ethel  had  answered  Dr.  Foster's 
first  proposition  (which  was  in  writing)  promptly  and 
positively,  by  returning  his  letter  with  a  simple  expression 
of  wonder  at  its  contents,  and  when  he  renewed  the  sub 
ject  shortly  afterwards  in  person,  she  could  not  help  treating 
it  as  a  joke,  and  possessed  by  a  spirit  of  mischief,  at  times 
beyond  control,  said  to  him  : — 

"  Why,  Dr.  Foster,  it  appears  to  me  the  circumstance 
of  your  brother's  most  unfortunate  condition,  and  your 
great  devotion  to  him,  would  prevent  all  possibility  of  your 
marrying,  as  it  must  necessarily  divert  your  attention 
somewhat  from  him,  and  the  presence  of  a  crazy  person  in 
your  establishment  might  be  rather  an  objection  to  most 
ladies,  I  fancy;"  and  then  she  smiled  so  wickedly,  that 
any  one  less  vain  and  conceited  than  the  doctor  would  have 
fathomed  at  once  the  irony  of  her  mood ;  but  catching  at 
this  expressed  objection  as  if  he  thought  it  the  only  one 
which  could  possibly  exist,  he  went  on  to  assure  her  that 
such  reasons  for  rejecting  his  suit  were  entirely  ground 
less,  as  he  had  only  been  prompted  by  motives  of  the  great- 


RACHEL  THORN'S  BANISHMENT.      165 

est  fraternal  affection  to  keep  his  brother  so  long  with  him, 
ever  hoping  by  kindness  and  care  to  restore  the  broken 
constitution  and  shattered  mind  of  the  sufferer,  which  now 
being  hopeless,  it  was  his  determination  in  any  event  to 
place  his  brother  in  an  asylum.  Then,  with  a  fierce  im 
petuosity,  both  astonishing  and  amusing  to  my  sister,  he 
began,  in  the  most  Bombastes  Furioso  style  imaginable,  to 
pour  forth  the  rhapsodies  of  love,  imploring  her  to  give 
him  a  hope  at  least  of  future  success,  until  at  last, 
though  almost  unable  to  gain  a  hearing,  she  begged  him 
to  drop  the  subject  forever,  as  her  decision  was  and  would 
remain  unalterable,  and  she  must  consider  any  future  at 
tempt  to  renew  it  offensive  in  the  extreme,  when,  flying 
from  the  extreme  of  love  to  that  of  rage,  he  left  the  house 
in  a  violent  passion,  and  refused  to  enter  it  afterwards,  even 
when  sent  for  as  a  physician. 

Ethel  joked  my  father  about  the  loss  of  his  favorite  med- 
cal  adviser,  saying,  she  "believed  he  would  rather  accept 
Foster  as  a  son  than  lose  him  as  a  physician." 

Our  dear,  unselfish  father ! — :he  could  well  endure  such 
jokes, — whose  every  thought  was  for  our  happiness. 

Rachel  looked  black  as  a  thunder-cloud  at  our  sallies  of 
fun  about  the  doctor,  and  one  day,  when  she  had  swept  out 
of  the  room  as  if  highly  offended  at  me  for  mimicking  his 
pompous  manner,  Ethel  exclaimed, — 

"Amy,  don't  you  wish  he  would  marry  Rachel,  she 
would  suit  him  exactly  ?"  I  gave  her  credit  for  the  sug- 


166  WOODBURN. 

gestion,  and  avowed  a  determination  to  tell  our  fair  cousin 
since  she  had  come  to  admire  our  neighbor  so  much  of  late, 
it  would  not  be  a  bad  idea  to  set  her  cap  for  him. 

"  Oh,  how  angry  it  will  make  her !"  I  said ;  "  for  she's 
dead  in  love  with  Mr.  Clifford,  though  for  some  mysterious 
reason  unknown  to  us,  Foster  evidently  possesses  a  won 
derful  influence  over  her.  What  a  nice  time  poor  Gabe 
and  the  crazy  man  would  have,  with  such  an  amiable  trio  as 
Rachel,  the  doctor,  and  Wolf ! — He  is  just  the  person  to 
suit  Rachel,  and  about  the  only  one  who  could  keep  her  in 
order." 

I  carried  my  threat  of  bantering  her  on  this  subject  into 
execution  the  very  first  opportunity.  I  know  she  was 
angry  enough  to  strike  me,  and  in  thinking  it  over  since, 
feel  well  assured  that  the  pent-up  fury  of  that  moment 
urged  her  on  to  commit  the  crowning  act  of  perfidy  which 
caused  my  father,  after  she  was  unmasked,  to  banish  her 
from  Woodburn.  We  were  alone  at  the  time,  and  her  only 
reply  was, — 

"Hold  your  tongue,  you  .saucy  little  jade;  I  would 
rather  be  without  beaux  forever  than  glory  in  breaking 
hearts  as  your  lovely  sister  does  !" 

I  was  provoked  at  her  spite,  and  said  as  she  glided  out 
of  the  room, — 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  your  acquiring  the  right  of  glo 
rification  over  that  kind  of  butchery !" 

When  next  we  met,  there  was  rather  a  more  malignant 


RACHEL  THORN'S  BANISHMENT.  167 

expression  than  usual  lurking  in  her  cold  eyes,  but  other 
wise  I  observed  no  sign  of  displeasure,  and  avoided  further 
allusion  to  our  late  conversation. 

A  few  days  afterwards,  as  Mr.  Clifford,  Ethel,  and  my 
self  were  sitting  in  the  library,  arguing  about  the  pronun 
ciation  of  certain  words,  for  which  he  was  searching  in 
Webster,  Rachel,  entering,  as  I  thought,  in  rather  a  flur 
ried  manner,  said  quickly  to  my  sister, — 

"Ethel,  while  you  were  riding  this  morning,  a  note 
came  for  you  from  Pearl,  and  as  you  were  absent  I  told 
the  boy  he  need  not  wait,  and  threw  it  into  your  portfolio, 
which  was  lying  open  on  the  table — but  let  me  run  and 
get  it." 

So,  without  waiting  an  instant  for  Ethel's  reply,  she 
sped  off,  and  was  down  again  before  we  had  time  to  express 
more  than  an  exclamation  of  wonder  at  her  sudden  fit  of 
obliging  amiability.  As  she  entered,  my  sister,  seeing  the 
portfolio  instead  of  the  note  in  Rachel's  hand,  remarked, — 

"  You  need  not  have  troubled  yourself  to  bring  down 
that  great  book — where's  the  note?"  at  the  same  time 
holding  out  her  hand  to  take  the  portfolio,  which  however 
the  crafty  bearer  managed  to  slam  adroitly,  as  if  by  acci 
dent,  against  the  back  of  a  chair,  causing  it  to  fall,  and 
scattering  the  entire  contents  before  us  on  the  carpet. 

"Dear  me!"  cried  the  artful  creature,  "what  have  I 
done  ?  But,  mercy  on  me,  Ethel !  where  did  you  get  such 
a  perfect  likeness  of  Basil  ?" 


168  WOODBURN. 

And  catching  up  a  miniature  of  her  brother,  which  had 
fallen  from  my  sister's  portfolio,  she  began  kissing  it,  as  if 
in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

Mr.  Clifford  and  myself  forthwith  proceeded  to  gather 
up  the  scattered  papers,  both  confused,  and  scarcely  know 
ing  what  to  think,  when  simultaneously  we  caught  sight 
of  an  open  letter,  apparently  long  kept,  and  all  on  one 
page,  written  in  a  large,  bold  hand  so  distinct  that  neither 
of  us  could  avoid  seeing  the  beginning  and  ending — 

"  My  darling  Ethel — and  your  devoted  Basil." 

For  the  eyes  will  take  in  such  words,  when  clearly  writ 
ten,  without  any  intention  of  reading  a  letter  thus  suddenly 
spread  out  to  view.  I  crumpled  it  quickly,  snatching  up 
the  portfolio  and  cramming  in  the  papers  en  masse  with  a 
rapidity  I  could  scarcely  account  for,  being  bewildered  be 
yond  expression — after  Ethel's  positive  denial  of  anything 
like  an  engagement  with  Basil  Thorn,  to  find  his  minia 
ture  and  a  bona  fide  love  letter  from  him  in  her  pos 
session. 

Mr.  Clifford  looked  as  I  had  never  seen  him  look  before, 
and  turning  away  from  me  after  the  papers  were  collected, 
left  the  room.  Tien  I  cast  an  inquiring  look  at  Ethel, 
for  all  this  occurred  so  quickly,  that  Rachel  was  still 
kissing  the  picture  when  Mr.  C.  went  out.  My  sister's 
lovely  face  was  so  perfectly  rigid  with  intense  excitement 
that  it  frightened  me,  and  I  sprang  forward  to  hold  her,  as 


RACHEL  THORN'S  BANISHMENT.  169 

she  deliberately  advanced  towards  Rachel,  when  snatching 
the  picture  from  her  hand,  she  said, 

"  How  do  you  dare  to  ask  where  I  got  this  likeness  of 
your  brother  ?  Base,  deceitful  girl,  you  put  it  there  to 
forward  some  vile  purpose  unknown  to  me,  and  which  I  do 
not  care  to  fathom ;  one  thing  I  know,  and  that  is  you 
have  played  out  your  last  act  of  perfidy  at  Woodburn,  for 
my  father  shall  hear  of  this. 

As  she  spoke,  the  whole  truth  flashed  upon  me,  Rachel 
had  forged  the  letter  and  placed  it  there  with  the  minia 
ture  to  convince  Mr.  Clifford  that  her  assertion  regarding 
the  engagement  of  my  sister  and  Basil  was  correct.  I 
hated  myself  for  not  seeing  through  it  on  the  instant, 
and  felt  condemned  that  I  had  doubted  Ethel  even  for  a 
moment." 

"  Stop,"  I  said,  as  she  turned  to  leave  the  room,  "you 
did  not  see  this  letter  which  fell  out  with  the  miniature," 
and  drawing  out  the  crumpled  manuscript,  I  placed  it  in 
my  sister's  hand. 

"  A  vile  forgery  !"  she  exclaimed,  "  for  I  never  received 
a  line  from  Basil  in  my  life,  save  the  letters  he  wrote 
warning  me  not  to  marry  poor  Arthur,  and  they  were  all 
destroyed.  Rachel  Thorn,  why  have  you  been  guilty  of 
so  wicked  an  act  ?  I  should  think  one  case  of  forgery  in 
your  family  a  sufficient  disgrace,  without  your  following  it 
up  in  such  a  shameful  manner." 


170  WOODBURN. 

Rachel  seemed  gasping  a  moment  for  breath,  and  then 
replied  with  hardened  effrontery, — 

"  Ethel  Linton,  it  is  very  well  for  you  to  strive  and 
hide  your  perfidy  to  Basil  by  hurling  accusations  at  me. 
I  did  not  write  that  letter,  and  I  swear  Basil  wrote  it  and 
sent  it  to  you  with  the  likeness  ;  but  you  don't  want  Mr. 
Clifford  to  know  this,  for  jmi  love  him,  Ethel,  as  well  as 
you  are  capable  of  loving,  and  when  aware,  as  he  must  be 
now,  of  your  engagement  to,  and  base  treatment  of  Basil, 
he  will  scorn  you  as  you  deserve  to  be  scorned.  Do  your 
worst.  You  can  turn  me  away  from  Woodburn,  but  rest 
assured  you  shall  suffer  for  it  yet." 

And  she  ran  out,  slamming  the  door  in  a  fury,  while 
we  stood  gazing  at  each  other,  stupified  by  such  monstrous 
and  daring  falsehoods. 

Long  afterwards,  Mr.  Clifford  told  me  that  Rachel  had 
followed  him  into  the  garden,  when  as  they  met  suddenly 
at  a  turn  in  the  walk,  she  exclaimed, — 

"  Well !  do  you  believe  me  now,  or  is  Ethel  Linton  still 
the  angel  of  perfection  you  thought  her,  when  I  told  you 
of  her  engagement  to  my  brother,  and  that  she  broke  it  off 
to  marry  Arthur  Linton,  because  he  was  rich  ?  Her 
heart  was  more  Basil's  then  than  it  is  yours  now,  though 
you  think  she  loves  you,  Mr.  Clifford." 

The  last  was  hissed  out  spitefully,  and  as  she  waited  a 
reply,  he  said,  coldly  and  calmly, — 

".Miss  Thorn,  you  have  no  more  right  to  make  that  lat- 


RACHEL  THORN'S  BANISHMENT.  171 

ter  assertion  than  I  have  for  supposing  that  Mrs.  Linton 
regards  me  otherwise  than  as  a  friend.  I  have  no  claim 
upon  your  cousin's  confidence,  but  if  any  explanation  of 
this  matter  should  in  future  be  called  forth  from  her,  be 
assured,  whatever  she  tells  me  respecting  your  brother  and 
herself  will  be  accepted  and  respected  as  the  truth,  in 
spite  of  all  you  have  said  or  may  say  to  the  contrary." 

And  with  these  few  decisive  words  he  left  her. 

My  father  was  both  shocked  and  grieved  at  'Ethel's  ac 
count  of  Rachel's  conduct,  and  thought  we  should  have 
given  him  an  earlier  insight  into  her  character,  determin 
ing  forthwith  that  she  should  leave  Woodburn  at  once  and 
forever.  It  is  useless  to  dwell  upon  the  stormy  interview 
which  followed  the  announcement  to  Rachel  of  this  deter 
mination,  which  was  made  to  her  by  my  father  in  person, 
for  the  bland  softness  of  her  manner  towards  him  was  lost, 
swept  away  by  a  perfect  whirlwind  of  passion. 

She  was*  almost  angry  enough  to  refuse  further  pecu 
niary  assistance  from  the  uncle,  who  had  for  so  long  a  time 
been  as  a  father  to  her,  but  love  of  self  triumphed  even 
over  her  spite,  and  she  ended  by  assuring  him  that  the 
handsome  allowance  he  made  her  should  only  be  accepted 
until  such  time  as  she  could  "obtain  a  situation  as  gov 
erness." 

"A  most  capital  idea,  Rachel,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  ad 
mire  your  spirit." 


172  WOODBURN. 

What  an  amused,  quizzical  expression  he  wore  when 
telling  us  about  it. 

We  could  scarcely  appreciate  what  a  perfect  incubus  that 
girl  was  upon  our  happiness,  until  she  was  fairly  gone. 
Ethel's  explanation  to  Mr.  Clifford,  I  presume,  was  a  per 
fectly  satisfactory  one  to  all  parties,  for  when  I  happened 
to  go  into  the  parlor,  the  evening  after  Rachel's  departure, 
they  were  sitting  very  close  together,  my  sister's  cheeks 
wore  a  deeper  tinge  than  usual,  and  there  was  a  look  in 
Mr.  Clifford's  eyes  expressing,  as  plainly  as  words,  that  all 
doubt  of  her  was  banished  from  his  heart,  as  finally  as  the 
dark  shadow  that  cast  it  there  had  been  from  our  happy 
home. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

WHAT  ARCHEY  SAW  IN  THE  WOODS, 


"  O,  most  infamous! 
The  Count  of  Lara  is  a  damn'd  villain  !" — LONGFELLOW. 


RACHEL  left  during  the  first  week  in  December,  and  a 
few  evenings  afterwards,  when  Ralph  and  myself  had  just 
.  returned  from  a  ride,  as«Archey  was  leadiifg  off  the  horses, 
he  paused  a  moment,  then  hitched  them  to  the  rack,  and 
coming  back  to  where  we  stood,  before  the  front  door,  took 
off  his  hat  with  a  shuffling  bow,  as  if  about  to  ask  for  some 
thing. 

"Why,  you  unreasonable  scamp!"  exclaimed  my  bro 
ther;  "you  surely  don't  want  any  more  tobacco,  when 
father  gave  you  so  much  day  before  yesterday." 

"Lord  help  you,  no,  Massa  Ralph!  I  don't  want  no 
more  bacca — don't  spect  to  get  more  now,  no  how,  fore 
Christmas.  I  was  only  gwying  to  tell  you,  bein  as  how 
dat  young  white  oman  's  done  gone,  and  my  speakin  out 
can't  do  no  sort  of  harm  to  her  now,  dat  I  beleves — " 

"Who  in  thunder  are  you  talking  about?  you  black 
rascal !  Can't  you  call  people  by  their  names  ?" 


174  WOODBURN. 

"  Gosh !  Massa  Ralph,  you  blazes  out  at  dis  nigger  so, 
it  skeers  all  de  sense  out  of  his  head,  and  all  I  was  jist 
gwying  to  tell  is  got  mixed  up  togedder,  like  de  mess  in  de 
big  pot  down  at  de  black  folks'  kitchen,  when  it  biles  up 
so  hard  you  can't  tell  pork  from  beans  !  Do,  for  de  Lord's 
sake,  don't  holler  so,  Massa  Ralph,"  and  Archey  began  to 
chuckle.  "  I 's  talkin  about  de  young  white  oman  some  of 
de  niggers  calls  Miss  Rachel,  and  I  calls  Miss  Torn — for 
she's  none  of  my  miss.  What  was  it  I  was  tellin  about  her 
jist  now?  Let  me  steddy  over  it  a  minit,  please,  sir." 

"  Talk  fast,  then,"  replied  my  brother;  "and  mind, 
Archey,  don't  tell  me  any  of  your  infernal  lies.  What  have 
you  to  say  about  my  cousin  Rachel  ?" 

"Well,  only  dis  much,  sir — and  I  aint  no  ways  given  to 
lyin,"  said  the  boy;  "I  has  a  very  strong  notion,  from 
certin  tings  dat  come  under  my  inspection,  dat  Dr.  Foster 
and  Miss  Torn,  sir,  is  gwyin  to  get  spliced — yah  !  yah ! 
yah  ! — kase,  de  odder  evenin.  when  I  rode  over  to  Elgin 
to  open  de  gate  for  her,  he  jined  her  on  de  way  home, 
and  rode  most  up  to  de  Woodburn  lane ;  and  once,  when 
dey  sent  me  on  for  to  open  de  gate, — long  fore  we  got  to 
it, — I  spected  somting  'r  anudder  was  gwying  on  dat  I 
might  as  well  know;  so,  knowin  de  gate  was  open, — for 
dar  ain't  none  dar  to  open,  for  its  broke  clean  off,  and  ain't 
nebber  been  fixed, — at  a  turn  in  de  road,  I  dodged  into  de 
woods  like,  drapped  down  off  old  Billy,  who  's  so  dratted 
lazy  he  wont  nebber  move,  no  matter  whar  you  put  him, — 


WHAT  ARCHEY   SAW   IN   THE   WOODS.  175 

and  squatting  down  behind  a  log  near  de  road,  jist  waited 
for  dem  two  to  come  along  to  see  what  dey  was  about ;  and 
presently  dey  come  in  sight,  ridin  powerful  slow ;  and  as 
dey  passed,  I  seed  him  hand  her  a  little  black  ting  shut  up 
like  a  box,  and  a  letter — fore  de  Lord  I  did,  Massa  Ralph ; 
and  he  called  her  "Rachel,"  he  did;  for  I  heerd  him  say  to 
her  wid  my  own  years, — 

"Rachel,  if  your  damned  plotting  gets  me  into  trouble,  I 
shet  you  up — you  know  whar." 

"  It  was  a  rough  way,  sir,  of  speakin  to  a  gal  he's  got 
notions  on ;  but  he's  a  savage  kind  o'  man  any  way  :  and 
I  would'nt  a  had  him  ketch  me  behind  dat  dar  log  for  all 
master's  plantation,  darn  me  if  I  would;  but  dis  nigger's 
too  sly  for  dat  sure ;  and  I  was  astraddle  ob  old  Bill  in  no 
time,  and  cuttin  froo  de  woods,  got  to  de  gate  fore  dey  did. 
So,  bein's  how  de  lady's  your  cousin,  I  felt  like  it  was  a 
kind  ob  duty  to  speak  about  dis  matter ;  for  dat  dar  doc 
tor's  an  awful  man,  and  den  de  crazy  creeter,  you  know, 
Massa  Ralph !" 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  you  tattling  fool !"  said  my  brother, 
"or  I'll  give  you  a  licking.  What  business  have  you  to 
watch  white  people,  and  listen  to  their  conversations  ?  I 
only  wish  Dr.  Foster  had  caught  you  there !" 

"  De  Lord  have  mercy !  dont't  say  dat,  my  dear  young 
massa,  for  sure  as  he  had,  your  poor  nigger  would'nt  have 
a  whole  bone  in  every  bit  of  his  black  hide  dis  here  minit ; 
but  I  never  tinks,  I  don't,  of  listenin  to  good  white  folks ; 


176  WOODBUKN. 

but  dem  two  looks  so  darned  wicked,  wid  dar  heads  toged- 
der,  I  could'nt  help  keepin  my  eye  on  em  dis  long  time, 
and  I'm  monstrus  glad  to  find  dey's  got  notion  of  marryin 
each  odder,  instead  of  finishing  somebody  else.  And  now, 
Massa  Ralph,  I  know  you  aint  gwyin  to  lick  a  darkey  for 
nothin  't  all;  and  I  aint  dun  no  harm,  but,  fore  de  Lord, 
I  meant  to  do  good. — W-ho-o,  Gypsey — dat  dar  skittish 
little  mar's  about  to  break  her  bridle,  sir.  I  shall  try  to 
deform  about  listen,  as  you  don't  disprove  of  it,  Massa 
Ralph  !"  and  Archey  shuffled  off,  leaving  us  in  a  roar  of 
laughter  at  his  ridiculous  attempt  to  talk  "dictionary,"  as 
the  black  people  say,  when  trying  to  use  big  words. 

After  we  went  into  the  house,  the  whole  affair  was  re 
lated  to  Ethel  and  Mr.  Clifford,  who  were  as  much  puzzled 
as  ourselves  to  account  for  Dr.  Foster's  intimacy  with  Ra 
chel  ;  and  then  the  black  box  and  letter,  could  they  have 
any  connection  with  the  miniature  and  letter  she  had  placed 
in  Ethel's  portfolio  ? 

If  so,  how  had  Basil's  likeness  come  into  the  doctor's 
possession  ?  It  was  in  vain  to  speculate  upon  a  subject  so 
perfectly  enveloped  in  mystery,  but  we  were  now  rather 
disposed  to  believe  with  Archey,  that  there  must  be  some 
understanding  of  a  tender  nature  between  them,  as  he  had 
called  her  "Rachel."  And  surely  the  negro  never  could 
have  invented  this  singular  story. 

Twice  had  we  heard  from  Victor  since  his  arrival  on  the 
continent  through  letters  to  his  father  and  Aunt  Kate,  but 


WHAT   ARCHEY   SAW   IN    THE    WOODS.  177 

to  Pearl  he  had  not  yet  written,  and  his  mood  appeared 
gloomy  enough. 

One  morning,  just  before  Christmas,  "while  we  were  at 
breakfast,  Archey  came  in  from  town  with  quite  a  package 
of  letters,  and  those  with  foreign  post-marks  were  not,  as 
usual,  all  for  Mr.  Clifford — there  was  one  from  Borne  for 
"  Miss  Percy,"  and  my  heart  gave  a  great  leap  of  joy 
when  (as  it  was  handed  to  me)  I  recognized  the  marked 
and  very  peculiar  handwriting  of  my  cousin  Victor.  The 
style  was  nibre  hopeful  than  his  former  letters.  He  still 
called  me  his  "  dear  little  coz,"  evidently  striving  to  shake 
off  depression  while  giving  an  account  of  his  travels  for 
my  amusement — chiding  himself  for  having  neglected  me 
so  long — begging  me  to  write  and  tell  him  everything. 

"  Don't  forget  to  mention  poor  Bang — how  he  will  whine 
after  me  ! — and  Wizard  should  be  ridden  constantly,  or  he 
will  become  unmanageable  and  lose  all  his  fine  gaits,  and 
as  father  may  not  think  of  this,  please  ask  Ralph  to  see 
about  it,  and  be  sure  to  pet  poor  Bang  for  the  sake  of  your 
loving  cousin  Vick." 

It  was  thus  the  letter  ended — only  in  a  P.  S.  he  sent 
love  to  Pearl,  and  said  he  would  write  to  her  soon.  At  all 
events  this  interest  about  his  dog  and  horse  was  a  healthy 
sign,  and  showed  that  his  mind  was  making  an  effort 
against  morbid  melancholy. 

Ah  !  what  a  comfort  that  letter  was  to  me.  How  often 
I  read  it ;  and  before  sleeping  that  night  how  (even  more 

8* 


178  WOODBTJRN. 

than  usually)  earnest  were  my  prayers  for  the  dear  wan 
derer. 

Poor  dreaming  child !  far  better  for  me  had  he  never 
written ;  but  I  was  now  sixteen,  and  Victor  the  beau  ideal 
of  my  fresh  young  heart.  Hope  told  a  pleasant,  flattering 
tale,  and  I  listened,  as  many  a  deluded  girl  has  done,  and 
as,  alas  !  they  will  continue  to  do,  looking  forward  through 
that  magical  glamour  which  a  first  love  weaves  over  the 
future,  trusting  fondly  in  the  accomplishment  of  what  we 
hope  for,  driving  away  desponding  thoughts,  ever  pursuing 
the  bright  phantoms  that  lure  us  on,  until,  at  last,  they 
leave  us  despairing  in  a  waste  of  disappointment — as  a 
beautiful  mirage  of  the  desert,  (seeming  to  offer  bright 
cities,  cool  fountains  and  bowers  of  rest  to  the  weary  wan 
derer  who  pursues  them)  disappears  at  last,  and  leaves  him 
mourning  over  a  delusion  which  promised  that  which  reality 
teaches  him  can  never  be  obtained. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE     CHRISTMAS     TREE. 

"Where  are  the  bright  and  smiling  eyes, 

That  lit  those  vanished  years  ? 
Some  have  grown  brighter  in  the  skies ! 

Some  dimmed  by  earthly  tears. 

AT  last  our  great  delight,  the  Pearl  of  Elgin,  was  so  far 
recovered  as  to  walk  once  more,  though  only  as  yet  by  the 
aid  of  crutches — which  it  was  most  probable  she  would  be 
obliged  to  use  during  the  winter.  She  was  slighter  and 
paler,  so  much  paler  that  even  the  olive  tint  had  partly 
faded  with  the  rose  from  her  complexion,  entitling  her 
more  to  the  beautiful  name  she  bore. 

On  Christmas  eve  there  was  a  large  party  assembled  at 
Elgin,  for  our  annual  celebration  of  the  Christmas-tree, 
held  alternately  there  and  at  Woodburn. — In  the  early 
part  of  the  evening  we  danced,  played  games,  acted  cha 
rades  or  tableaux,— after  which  the  family  and  company, 
followed  by  the  house  servants,  were  ushered  by  the  host 
or  hostess  into  a  room,  where  stood  the  tree  loaded  with 
presents,  a  tempting  and  beautiful  sight,  when  some  one 
was  appointed  to  cut  down  and  distribute  the  gifts. 


180  WOODBURN. 

Long  years  have  gone  by  since  those  happy  meetings — 
some,  whose  eyes  were  brightest  and  whose  voices  gayest, 
giving  light  and  life  to  the  passing  hours,  were  called 
away  from  earth,  ere  yet  the  beam  had  vanished,  that  made 
lip,  and  cheek  and  eye  so  fair,  ere  yet  their  hearts  hacl 
felt  the  chilling  pali  of  disappointment  or  regret, — perhaps 
t'was  better  thus.  Some  whose  heads  were  then  white 
with  the  glory  of  approaching  age,  have  since  laid  down 
in  peace,  crowned  with  years,  loved  and  venerated,  well 
satisfied  to  obey  their  Master's  bidding — and  who  when  he 
called  found  them  watching. 

Some  are  scattered,  dwelling  far  away  from  their  fair, 
warm,  southern  homes,  and  changed  in  every  thing  save 
the  changeless  love  for  those  cherished  scenes  and  those 
beloved  ones  who,  though  severed  from  us  or  lost  forever, 
are  still  as  dear  as  when  we  met  their  smiling  eyes,  lit  up 
by  the  great  glowing  Christmas  fires  at  Woodburn  and 
Elgin,  in  that  far  off  vanished  time. 

Pearl's  partial  recovery  and  Victor's  more  cheerful  let 
ter,  made  us  all  feel  particularly  gay  and  happy  on  that 
especial  evening,  and  the  guests  were  prepared  for,  and  set 
upon  a  delightful  frolic. 

Pearl  wore  a  soft  full  dress  of  India  muslin,  with 
ornaments  of  rose-colored  coral  on  her  neck  and  arms ;  her 
purple  black  hair,  rolled  in  a  massive  twist,  was  coiled  up 
gracefully  low  down  on  the  back  of  her  finely  shaped  head, 


THE   CHRISTMAS-TREE.  181 

and  entirely  devoid  of  decoration,  save  one  perfect  star- 
shaped  pink  japonica  fastened  at  the  left  side. 

Ethel  was  radiantly  beautiful  in  a  rich  robe  of  black 
velvet,  with  pearl  ornaments,  and  a  white  japonica  amid 
the  masses  of  her  shining  hair. 

Being  still  considered  as  rather  a  "  little  girl,"  my  dress 
was  not  of  the  slightest  consequence,  yet  the  thought  did 
flash  upon  me,  while  glancing  in  the  mirror,  that  my  new 
blue  silk  was  particularly  becoming — neither  was  I  un 
mindful  that  the  figure  reflected  there,  looked  much  more 
womanly  in  its  proportions  than  on  the  preceding  Christ 
mas,  and  my  head  would  give  a  proud  little  toss  at  .the 
thought  that  when  Victor  returned  he  might  find  a  grown 
young  lady,  in  place  of  his  little  coz.  The  tree  was  more 
beautiful  than  any  we  had  ever  dressed  before,  and  one 
universal  exclamation  of  delight  and  admiration  burst 
forth  when  it  was  first  disclosed  to  that  expectant  company, 
the  wonder  of  the  evening — with  its  magical  crop  of 
presents ! 

All  the  rooms  were  beautifully  decorated  with  holly  and 
misletoes,  vases  of  rare  exotics  were  gracefully  disposed 
upon  the  table  and  mantels,  and  the  whole  scene  illumi 
nated  by  a  soft,  rosy  glow  from  many  wax  candles,  together 
with  the  more  ruddy  sparkling  cheerful  light  of  a  huge 
fire  of  hickory  logs,  which  crackled  and  roared  and  flashed 
in  the  great  open  fire-place. 

There  was  a  fearful  storm  raging  without,  which  caused 


182  WOODBURN. 

the  warmth,  light,  mirth,  and  beauty  within  those  brightly 
curtained  rooms  to  seem  even  more  attractive,  and  tended 
in  every  way  to  intensify  the  enjoyment  of  our  Christmas 
party. 

Mr.  Clifford  had  been  appointed  to  cut  down  and  dis 
tribute  the  presents,  which  he  did  most  gracefully,  having 
some  pleasant  and  appropriate  word  for  each  recipient,  and 
our  gayety  was  at  its  height, — when,  in  handing  to  Pearl  one 
of  many  pretty  trifles,  she  accidentally  dropped  her  hand 
kerchief,  which  lifting  quickly  he  playfully  spread  out  on 
her  lap,  over  the  crimson  satin  mouchoir  case  he  had  just 
given  her — worked  by  Ethel — on  one  side  of  which 
"  Pearl "  was  beautifully  embroidered  with  white  silk  floss. 
The  embroidery  of  the  handkerchief  being  fully  and  clearly 
revealed  on  the  dark  satin,  when  Mr.  Clifford's  eye  fell 
upon  it,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  whose  intense  excitement 
was  painful  in  the  extreme,  attracting  the  attention  of  all 
present, — 

"  Oh !  God  of  mercy !  Pearl  Dunbar,  where  did  you 
get  that  handkerchief?  " 

His  manner  so  startled  the  feeble  girl,  that  for  a  moment 
she  appeared  on  the  point  of  fainting — for  it  was  the  hand 
kerchief  Michael  McAlpine  had  brought,  and  which  she 
believed  had  belonged  to  her  mother.  At  last  she  gasped 
out — 

"  It  was  on  my  neck  when,  when— but,  Mr.  Clifford, 
papa  can  tell  you  all  about  it ;  for,  indeed,  I  do  feel  so  sick 


THE   CHRISTMAS-TREE.  183 

and  weak,"  and  leaning  back  in  her  chair,  poor  Pearl 
looked  so  very  pale  it  frightened  us. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Clifford  picked  up  the  dainty  little  thing 
which  had  caused  so  much  excitement,  and  without  one 
word  of  explanation  or  apology,  rushed  out  of  the  room, 
followed  by  uncle  Dunbar,  whose  kind  black  eyes  lost  their 
twinkle  of  mirth,  and  looked  sadly  troubled,  for  he  always 
had  a  dread  that  something  would  "turn  up"  unexpect 
edly,  calculated  to  clear  away  the  mystery  of  Pearl's  life, 
and  that  he  might,  perhaps,  lose  her,  after  so  many  years 
of  tender  care  and  love — Mr.  Clifford's  agitation  inducing 
him  now,  of  course,  to  believe,  as  we  all  did,  that  he  must 
know  something  with  regard  to  her  parents. 

When  my  uncle  found  Mr.  Clifford,  he  was  standing 
under  the  hall  lamp,  examining  minutely  the  delicate  work 
on  this  mysterious  handkerchief. 

"  Mr.  Dunbar,"  he  said,  "  you  will  excuse  my  extreme 
agitation  and  sudden  departure  from  the  company  when 
informed  that  this  is  my  crest,  and  the  name  embroidered 
here,  '  Olivia,'  was  that  of  my  wife  ;  and  this  is  either  the 
handkerchief  (or  an  exact  copy  of  it)  I  presented  her  after 
the  birth  of  our  little  daughter,  which  she  did  not  long 
survive — and  that  child  was  lost  at  sea  some  fifteen  years 
ago.  And  now  tell  me,  in  heaven's  name,  when,  where 
and  how  did  it  come  into  your  daughter's  possession?" 

"This  is  strange,  passing  strange,  Mr.  Clifford,"  replied 
my  uncle,  "  for  this  handkerchief  was  round  the  neck  of  a 


1 84  WOODBURN. 

beautiful  child,  about  two  years  old,  who  was  rescued  from 
the  waves  after  a  furious  storm,  one  morning  some  'fifteen 
years  since,  off  the  coast  of  Florida,  by  the  master  of  a 
small  fishing  smack.  The  child  was  tied  to  a  bit  of  broken 
mast,  and  had  evidently  been  dashed  about  for  some  time, 
as  she  was  quite  insensible  and  almost  drowned  when  saved 
by  the  fisherman.  The  wrecked  ship  went  down  just  as 
the  little  fishing  vessel  was  putting  out  to  sea  for  the  rescue 
of  those  on  board.  All  the  passengers  were  supposed  to 
be  lost,  and  with  the  exception  of  some  three  or  four  of  the 
crew,  who  escaped  in  a  life-boat,  that  fair  child  was  the 
only  remnant  left  from  all  that  freight  of  human  life.  Dil 
igent  search  was  made,  but  no  clue  to  the  little  girl's 
parents  could  ever  be  obtained,  and  at  last,  supposing  them 
to  be  certainly  lost,  the  old  fisherman,  McAlpine,  adopted 
that  beautiful  shipwrecked  infant,  and  for  two  years  it  was 
cherished  by  him  and  his  wife,  in  an  humble  cottage,  as 
their  own,  when  a  curious  chance  brought  her  under  my 
care,  and  by  me  she  was  regularly  adopted  as  a  daughter. 
The  fanciful  name  given  to  her  by  that  rough,  warm-hearted 
old  sailor,  because  he  had  picked  her  up  out  of  the  sea  so 
pure  and  so  fair,  was  never  changed — for  still  we  call  her 
Pearl." 

Mr.  Clifford,  who"  had  listened  with  rapt  and  breathless 
attention  to  this  narrative — when  the  narrator  paused — 
grasped  his  hand  convulsively,  and  gasped  out  in  a  broken 
whisper: 


THE   CHRISTMAS-TREE.  185 

"I  see.  Oh  !  yes — it  is  all  very  clear  to  me  now — there 
remains  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  upon  the  fact,  that  your 
adopted  daughter  is — oh  !  merciful  God,  how  almost  im 
possible  it  seems — my  own  long  lost  child  !  No  wonder  she 
is  so  like  Olivia  1"  and  he  sank  down  in  a  chair,  breath 
less — overpowered. 

Some  half  an  hour  after  they  had  left  us,  Uncle  Dun- 
bar  returned  and  whispered  something  to  Pearl,  who  imme 
diately  rose  and  left  the  room  with  him,  prepared  for 
something  startling,  but  (as  she  told  me  afterwards)  totally 
unaware,  until  folded  in  Mr.  Clifford's  arms,  (when  the 
story  was  quickly  told)  that  in  him  was  found  her  long  lost 
father. 

She  did  not  return  to  join  the  company  again,  for  the 
meeting  of  a  father  and  daughter,  dead  to  each  other 
during  almost  the  whole  of  her  young  life,  was  too  sacred 
for  other  eyes  than  those  whose  love  had  been  to  her  in 
place  of  that  lost  parent — and  no  one  save  them — not  even 
Cecil  Clare — saw  Pearl  again  that  night.  Aunt  Kate 
(who  was  sent  for  by  my  uncle  soon  after  he  led  Pearl 
away)  returned  with  her  cap,  if  possible,  in  rather  a  more 
remote  position  on  the  back  of  her  head  than  usual,  and 
her  dear,  good,  honest  eyes  quite  red  from  weeping.  She 
described  it  as  such  "  a  touching  scene,"  yet  trying  to 
look  cheerful,  and  to  answer  in  her  pleasant,  blunt,  Scotch 
fashion,  to  the  best  of  her  ability,  the  endless  questions  put 
in  rapid  succession  by  that  wonder-stricken  assemblage  of 


186  WOODBURN. 

guests.  Cecil  Clare  was  visibly  agitated,  and  left  with  his 
mother  almost  immediately  after  hearing  this  most  singu 
larly  romantic  story,  the  particulars  of  which  must  of 
course  remain  unknown  until  Mr.  Clifford  should  be  suffi 
ciently  composed  to  relate  them.  Indeed,  after  Aunt  Kate 
finished  distributing  the  presents  our  Christmas  party 
broke  up,  not  sadly,  but  wonderingly — and  all,  very 
naturally,  on  the  qui  vive  to  hear  a  story,  the  late  episode 
of  which  was  so  "  uncommonly  novel  like,"  as  Aunt  Kate 
said.  Dear  old  lady !  what  a  perfect  twitter  she  was  in, 
and  how  her  nervous  fingers  did  twitch  and  work ;  now 
arranging  her  spectacles,  and  now  giving  that  nondescript 
cap  of  hers  a  spasmodic  jerk,  until  at  last  she  ended  by 
bringing  it  on  a  line  perpendicular  with  her  eyebrows, 
producing  an  effect  more  original  and  ludicrous  than  be 
coming — for  Aunt  Kate  was  not  handsome,  and  her  rather 
quaint,  peculiar  style  of  adornment  rather  served  to 
heighten  the  effect  of  her  large  features  and  angular  figure  ; 
but  then  she  was  so  thoroughly  good,  and  sensible,  and 
true,  that  those  who  loved  her  scarcely  marked  her  plain 
physique,  and  I  could  not  help  thinking  what  a  fine  sub 
ject  there  would  be  for  some  great  painter  when  my  beau 
tiful  sister,  while  restoring  that  queer  specimen  of  a  head 
dress  to  its  proper  place  upon  the  cranium  of  this  living 
example  of  spinster  perfection,  (with  an  amused  expression 
that  would  flash  out  of  those  expressive  eyes  as  she  peeped 


THE   CHRISTMAS-TREE.  187 

at  me  over  the  old  lady's  head)  kissed  her  so  gently,  so 
kindly,  saying : 

"Good  night;  don't  fret  about  losing  Pearl,  aunty,  for 
I  know  Mr.  Clifford  will  never  take  her  away  from  you." 

And  so  we  left,  and  so  ended  that  Christmas  eve  which 
had  furnished  us  such  large  material  to  speculate  upon 
until  the  whole  truth  should  be  revealed. 

The  storm  had  abated,  and  as  we  drove  through  the  gate 
a  gentleman  dashed  by  us  on  horseback.  It  was  Mr.  Clif 
ford  ;  for  the  startling  revelation  of  that  evening  had  left 
him  too  much  absorbed  and  too  deeply  •  agitated  even  to 
think  of  handing  Ethel  into  the  carriage ;  and  not  until 
we,  who  were  the  last  to  remain,  had  left,  could  he  tear 
himself  away  from  that  newly  found  treasure,  the  beautiful 
Pearl,  he  had  so  mysteriously  discovered  under  the  shadow 
of  our  Christmas-tree. 

Pearl's  guardian  angel  might  have  dropped  a  tear 'of  joy 
and  love — if  angels  are  allowed  to  weep — while  bearing  up 
to  God  that  night  the  holy  incense  of  her  prayer ;  for  it 
was  met  by  another  as  earnest  and  as  pure.  The  spirits 
of  father  and  daughter  mingled  their  thanksgivings  ten 
derly  together  before  the  throne  of  grace. 


CHAPTER     XIX. 

MR.   CLIFFORD'S   STORY. 

"There's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough  hew  them  as  wo  may." — SIIAKSPEABK.- 

THE  next  day  we  heard  the  following  remarkable  story, 
which  I  shall  endeavor  to  render  as  nearly  as  possible  in 
the  words  of  the  narrator. 

Lenox  Clifford  was  the  son  of  an  English  clergyman, 
and  remotely  connected  with  a  noble  family.  His  uncle 
having  been  a  man  of  large  fortune,  now  inherited  by  an 
only  son,  delicate  and  dissipated,  the  uncertain  life  of  this 
profligate  cousin  only  stood  between  him  and  an  almost 
princely  inheritance.  His  father,  with  sound  sense  and 
far-seeing  judgment,  being  unable  to  endow  his  children 
with  fortune,  spent  a  large  portion  of  their  moderate 
means  in  securing  for  them  fine  educational  advantages, 
for  he  believed — and  a  wise  belief  it  is — that  a  store  of 
mental  wealth  must  eventually  secure,  at  all  events,  a 
more  satisfactory  position  than  heaps  of  treasure  can  com 
mand  for  shallow  brains  or  uncultivated  minds.  His  only 
sister  was  married,  and  with  their  widowed  mother,  now 


MR.  CLIFFORD'S  STORY.  189 

resided  in shire ;  for  Lenox  Clifford  had  been  called 

home  suddenly  from  college  to  see  his  father  die.  After 
that,  his  education  was  completed  in  Germany  and  France, 
for  the  purpose  of  acquiring  both  languages  perfectly  ;  and 
it  was  at  Paris  he  met  with  the  singular  adventure  which 
became  the  opening  chapter  to  his  afterwards  most  roman 
tic  history.  How  mysterious  and  beyond  control  are  of 
tentimes  the  coming  of  events,  whose  denouement  gives 
rise  to  those  real  life  stories,  whose  strangeness  is  so  deeply 
colored  with  romance  ! 

One  night  in  returning  to  his  lodgings,  as  Mr.  Clifford 
passed  by  a  fashionable  opera-house,  from  which  the  audi 
ence  had  lately  dispersed,  he  was  attracted  by  a  sudden 
gleam  of  light  flashing  from  something  upon  the  pavement 
before  him,  which,  on  closer  inspection,  proved  to  be  a 
bracelet,  elegant  and  costly  in  design,  for  it  shone  a  per 
fect  blaze  of  jewels  as  he  raised  it  under  the  street-lamp  ; 
a  serpent  in  form,  and  of  such  cunning  workmanship  that 
it  writhed  between  his  fingers,  for  the  delicate  gold  scales, 
set  with  opals  were  all  separate,  causing  it  to  twist  about 
and  quiver  like  a  living  thing,  while  on  the  flat  head 
shone  a  large  diamond,  whose  pure  white  light  was  in  fine 
contrast  with  those  wonderful  changeable  scales  and  the 
fiery  flash  of  its  ruby  eyes.  Underneath  the  head,  and  just 
over  the  fine  spring  clasp,  now  broken — which  had  evi 
dently  caused  its  loss — in  a  quaint  style  of  green  enamel, 
were  the  letters  0.  L.  What  should  he  do  with  it  ?  At 


190  WOODBUBN. 

present,  nothing ;  for  to  seek  the  owner  of  a  lost  trinket  at 
that  hour,  through  the  mazes  of  such  a  gigantic  city  as 
Paris,  would  be  worse  than  folly ;   so  depositing  the  fairy 
thing  safely  in  the  inner  breast  pocket  of  his  coat,  Lenox 
Clifford  went  his  way,  wondering — as  most  young  men  in 
similar  circumstances  would — whether  the  arm  was  fair  to 
look  upon,  from  which  that  rich  bracelet  had  fallen — or  if 
he  should  meet  its  owner,  and  where  and  when  ?     The 
next  day  was  spent  in  fruitless  endeavors  to  find  her,  and 
sorely  perplexed  at  night,   he  went  to  the  same  opera- 
house,  still  hoping,  by  diligent  inquiry  among  those  he 
knew,  to  obtain  some  clue  to  the  fair  unknown ;  but  all  in 
vain.     After  leaving  the  opera,  he  went  into  an  eating- 
saloon,  and  while  taking  his  supper,  overheard  detached 
portions  of  a  conversation  which  startled  him  into  close  at 
tention,  accompanied  by  a  resolve  to  thwart  a  most  villan- 
ous  scheme,  then,  and  there,  revealed  to  his  astonished  ears. 
The  speakers  were  only  divided  from  him  by  a  cloth  parti 
tion,  or  screen,  and  were  either  ignorant  of  his  proximity 
or  carelessly  free  from  the  fear  of  being  overheard. 

"A  priest,"  exclaimed  the  first  speaker,  "I  hate  the 
very  name,  Orliff,  my  sudden  fit  of  sanctity  was  only  put 
on  as  a  plea  to  accomplish  my  plan  of  getting  to  Paris  ;  I 
have  always  been  "determined  to  break  away  from  the 
cursed  quiet  of  a  monastic  life,  and  now,  when  the  fire  of 
a  fierce  uncontrollable  passion  is  consuming  me,  the  temp 
tation  becomes  stronger  than  ever.  You  have  promised  to 


ME.  CLIFFORD'S  STORY.  191 

serve  me,  and  now  is  the  time,  for  my  determination  is  un 
alterable.  Olivia  Lacy  shall  be  mine  ;  fair  means  have  I 
tried  in  vain,  and  now" — here  the  other  speaker  evidently 
expostulated  with  him  in  an  undertone,  so  that  "exposure,  " 
"  detection,"  "penalty,"  were  the  only  words  Lenox  Clif 
ford  could  hear  distinctly,  and  then  the  first  speaker  re 
plied  angrily, 

"  Your  cursed  cowardice  shall  not  snatch  this  prize  from 
me,  there  are  others  to  help  me  through  if  you  back  out, 
and  cowardice  it  is,  Orliff,  for  your  conscience,'we  know, 
is  not  large  enough  to  be  troublesome,"  and  he*  laughed,  a 
reckless  coarse  laugh,  u  my  secret  is  very  safe  with  you, 
however,  whether  you  help  me  through  this  little  affair  or 
not,  no  fear  of  your  betraying  me,  no,  no,  we  both  know 
too  much  of  each  other's  private  history  to  try  that  game, 
don't  we,  old  fellow  ?  But  you  won't  back  out  now, — to 
morrow  is  Friday,  and  in  the  evening  she  goes  alone  about 
twilight  from  the  con — well  then,  to  madam" — 

"Hush,  Henrique,"  said  the  other,  "  you  may  be  over 
heard." 

"Well,  home  to  her  aunt's,  then,"  he  resumed,  in  a 
lower  tone — but  this  way  is  by  far  too  much  frequented 
for  me  to  attempt  forcing  her  off  there  by  violence — no, 
we  must  use  stratagem,  and  I  have  a  plan  all  arranged, 
which  is  almost  sure  to  succeed.  To-morrow  afternoon, 
before  the  time  she  generally  leaves,  a  handsome  carriage, 
which  I  have  hired  and  which  you  are  to  drive,  must  be 


192  WOODBURN. 

sent  to  the  convent  in  haste,  with  a  message  from  Dr.  Le 
Branch  (the  name  was  almost  whispered,  yet  loud  enough 
for  him  to  catch  the  sound)  to  Miss  Lacy,  begging  her  to 
come  at  once  to  her  aunt,  who  is  extremely  ill ;"  your- 
pretty  little  nephew  can  act  as  footman,  Orliff,  and  deliver 
the  message  well,  as  whatever  you  tell  him  he  believes  is 
right,  and  on  this  occasion  he  must  not  have  a  suspicion 
that  he  is  acting  a  part.  The  girl's  impulsive  nature  will 
induce  her  to  go  at  once,  and  then  you  must  drive  in  the 
right  direc^on  until  nearly  there,  when  turning  suddenly 

into  the  Rue ,  stop  for  a  moment — I  will  jump  in 

and  stifle  her  cries  so  quickly  and  effectually  that  you  can 
drive  on  out  of  the  city  without  fear  of  detection." 

An  involuntary  cough  from  Lenox  Clifford  just  at  this 
moment  betraying  his  close  proximity,  the  rest  of  their 
conversation  was  carried  on  in  whispers,  from  which  he 
could  only  glean  an  occasional  word,  yet  were  these  suffi 
ciently  significant  to  reveal  all  the  horrors  of  that  infamous 
plot. 

"  On  board  the  steamer."  "  Can  say  she  is  mad" — 
"  pass  for  my  wife" — "Florence,  'till  I  am  tired  of  her." 

It  was  enough — and  the  young  Englishman  vowed  in 
wardly,  not  only  to  thwart  their  vile  plot  and  save  the 
innocent  girl,  of  whom  he  knew  nothing,  save  that  her 
name  was  "  Olivia  Lacy,"  but  also  to  bring  Henrique  and 
his  more  cautious  companion,  Orliff,  to  justice,  and  there 
fore  when  they  rose  to  depart,  he  did  so  likewise,  deter- 


MR.  CLIFFORD'S  STORY.  193 

mined  to  have  a  look  at  these  men  whom  it  might  become 
necessary  for  him  to  identify  hereafter. 

Orliff  was  tall,  sallow,  vulgar  and  hard-looking  to  a 
degree  of  fierceness ;  yet  there  was  a  look  about  his  eyes 
indicating  cunning  caution,  while  Henrique  was  coarse, 
thick  set,  with  that  bold,  sensual  expression,  so  often 
acquired  by  young  men  of  gentle  birth,  who,  defying 
the  authority  of  parents  and  the  laws  of  God,  give  way 
with  daring  recklessness  to  their  worst  passions.  Little  did 
those  scheming  villians  dream  as  Lenox  passed  them,  that 
their  dark  plot  was  in  the  keeping  of  this  young  stranger 
who  had  the  strength  and  will  to  thwart  it. 

Olivia  Lacy  !  the  name  had  a  strange  connection  in  his 
mind  with  something — what  was  it  ?  And  Lenox  Clifford 
sat  dreaming  over  this  adventure  in  the  solitude  of  his 
chamber  too  much  excited  to  sleep  for  hours  after  his 
return. 

At  last  the  letters  enameled  on  that  dainty  bracelet 
found  at  the  door  of  the  opera-house,  and  for  whose  owner 
he  had  sought  so  diligently,  flashed  before  him — for  in  the 
absorbing  interest  of  this  late  adventure,  it  was  for  the 
moment  well  nigh  forgotten.  The  initials  made  no  parti 
cular  impression  upon  him,  until  thus,  as  it  were  recalled 
by  the  sweet  name  so  freely  spoken,  by  the  sensual  lips 
of  Henrique.  And  then  he  drew  out  the  glittering  trinket 
to  find  those  delicate  letters  corresponding  with  that  name. 
It  was  a  curious  coincidence,  and  yet  the  same  initials 


194  WOODBURN. 

might  suit  a  number  of  names.  So  he  began  with  that 
unaccountable  perversity  by  which  the  human  heart  and 
mind  delights  in  perplexing  itself,  to  enumerate  all  the 
female  names  he  could  imagine,  begining  with  0.  L. — 
Ophelia  Lyman,  Orphia  Laton,  Octavia  LeRoy — together 
with  every  other  probable  and  improbable  name  that  could 
be  thought  of,  and  at  last  settling  down  to  a  firm  convic 
tion  that  the  initials  on  that  identical  bracelet,  belonged  to" 
no  other  than  Olivia  Lacy,  and  therefore  he  must  strive  to 
find  her  out  on  the  morrow,  (even  were  she  immured  within 
the  walls  of  a  convent,  or  guarded  by  some  fierce  old  uncle 
or  aunt,  always  more  formidable  than  parents,)  return  the 
trinket  as  a  pretext  for  seeking  her,  and  then  should  his 
conviction  prove  correct,  reveal  the  plot  of  Henrique  and 
Orliff ;  or  if  this  failed,  the  street  must  be  watched  where 
Henrique  was  to  jump  into  the  carrriage,  and  the  intended 
victim  rescued,  even  were  it  at  the  risk  of  his  life  ;  and 
with  that  determination  young  Clifford  slept,  to  dream  of 
ruffian  priests,  glittering  serpents  and  Olivia  Lacy. 


CHAPTER     XX. 

THE     RESCUE. 

"  What  news  is  this  that  makes  thy  cheek  turn  pale, 
And  thy  hand  tremble  f " — LONGFELLOW. 

UNFORTUNATELY  Mr.  Clifford  had  failed  to  hear  the 
name  of  the  convent  or  school  where  Miss  Lacy  was,  as 
the  cautious  Orliff  had  interrupted  Henrique,  so  as  to 
render  what  he  said  regarding  it  entirely  indefinite,  but 
youth  is  sanguine  and  the  great  difficulty  of  not  knowing, 
or  even  having  an  idea  in  what  direction  to  turn,  while 
thinking  over  his  plans  for  her  rescue  at  night,  never 
occurred  to  Lenox,  and  indeed,  until  fairly  started  upon  his 
adventures  in  search  of  this  fair  unknown,  he  failed  to 
realize  the  uncertainty  of  such  an  undertaking,  for  seeking 
after  a  person  to  be  found  somewhere  in  Paris,  is  well 
nigh  as  perplexing,  though  less  dangerous,  than  threading 
the  mazes  of  the  Cretan  labyrinth.  Whither  should  he 
turn  ?  The  Sacre  Coeur  was  in  high  repute,  and  if  at  a 
convent  at  all,  perhaps  she  might  be  there ;  at  all  events 
he  would  inquire.  So  forthwith  to  the  Sacre  Cc&ur  he 
went  first,  and  calling  for  the  Mother  Superior,  was 


196  WOODBURN. 

speedily  ushered  into  %the  presence,  or  rather  partial 
presence — for  an  iron  grating  rose  between  them— of  a 
tall  white  nun,  so  cold  and  stately  in  voice,  manner,  and 
appearance,  that  she  cast  a  chill  upon  him,  such  as  one 
might  imagine  to  come  from  sailing  under  the  dismal 
shadow  of  an  iceberg. 

"Miss  Lacy,"  she  replied,  iti  answer  to  his  inquiry  as 
to  whether  there  was  such  a  young  lady  under  her  care; 
"  yes,  there  is  a  girl  of  that  name  among  our  scholars — 
but  are  you  a  relation  of  hers,  for  it  is  only  a  plea  of  near 
relationship  which  induces  us  to  allow  one  of  your  sex  to 
see  a  young  lady  under  our  care." 

"I  am  a  stranger  to  the  lady,"  he  replied;  "in  fact, 
have  never  seen  her ;  but  having  found  a  bracelet,  which 
I  am  induced  to  believe  belongs  to  her,  I  am  anxious  to 
see  Miss  Lucy  for  the  purpose  of  restoring  it ;  and  then, 
by  an  odd  chance,  I  happen  to  be  in  possession  of  certain 
information  of  great  importance  to  her." 

.Che  tall,  white  nun  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said, 

"lean  receive  the  bracelet— though  she  seldom  goes 
out,  never  wears  trinkets,  and  therefore  it  is  almost  impos 
sible  the  bracelet  you  refer  to  can  be  hers,  though  perhaps 
I  may  be  mistaken,  and  will  ask  her,  communicating  the 
information  you  have  at  the  same  time,  as  our  scholars  are 
allowed  no  secrets  from  us ;  will  this  not  answer — Miss 
Lacy  is  engaged  with  her  lessons." 

"  No,  I  would  rather  see  her,  or,  if  that  is  impossible, 


THE   RESCUE. 

can  you  not  direct  me  to  some  friend  or  relative  in  the  cit; 
the  bracelet  I  might  send,  but  the  communication  is  of 
vital  importance,  and  must  be  explained  in  person,  either 
to  the  lady  or  some  one  deeply  interested  in  her  welfare." 

"T  am,  of  course,  interested  in  her,"  said  the  holy  mo 
ther,  in  a  piqued,  cold  tone  of  voice,  "yet,  if  you  insist 
upon  it,  the  girl  may  have  an  interview  with  you  in  my 
presence,"  and  she  swept  haughtily  away.  — 

Restless  and  impatient,  young  Clifford  waited  her  return, 
for  time -was  wearing  away,  and  she  might  not,  after  all, 
be  the  Miss  Lacy  referred  to  by  Henrique ;  he  had  a  diffi 
cult,  nay,  almost  impossible  task  before  him,  and  but  a 
short  time  in  which  to  accomplish  it.  What  was  she  like  ? 
And  straightway  he  began  drawing  ideal  pictures  of  Olivia 
Lacy,  making  her  a  perfect  angel  of  beauty — though  was 
it  not  quite  as  likely  that  she  possessed  only  good  looks, 
nay,  indeed,  might  be  positively  ugly  ? 

"  No  |  his  reason  and  heart  both  responded,  this  is 
scarcely  possible ;  for  such  desperate  risks  are  not  apt  to 
be  run  by  hardened  villains  like  Henrique  for  homely 
women ;  and  indeed  even  good  men  are  not  often  apt  to 
resort  to  extreme  measures,  be  they  ever  so  lawful,  in  order 
to  gain  possession  of  the  plainer  specimens  of  the  feminine 
gender.  He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  for  nearly  half 
an  hour,  unable,  in  his  present  excited  and  impatient  state, 
to  sit  still ;  and  believing  that  revenge  for  his  unwilling 
ness  to  trust  her  had  incited  the  frigid  looking  nun  to  keep 


198  WOODBURN. 

him  waiting  thus,  caused  his  reflections  concerning  her  to 
be  none  of  the  most  amiable ;  and  though  we  know  Mr. 
Clifford  was  good,  he  rather  admitted,  when  recounting 
this  narrative,  that,  while  striding  up  and  down  that  dis 
mal  room,  he  did  not  bless  the  stately  white  devotee,  and 
could  he  by  one  wish  have  utterly  annihilated  her,  I  am 
afraid  that  holy  presence  would  'have  appeared  to  him  no 
more. 

But  at  last  she  came,  followed,  not  by  the  vision  of 
beauty  Lenox  had  conjured  up,  but  by  a  little,  sallow, 
white-haired  girl  about  fifteen,  with  red  rings  round  her 
eyes,  and  drawing  back  shyly,  as  if  alarmed  at  the  prospect 
of  seeing  a  stranger.  This  yellow  complexion  turned  almost 
green  in  its  paleness,  as  advancing  close  to  the  grating  the 
young  stranger  saluted  her  politely,  though  in  truth  well 
nigh  dumb  with  astonishment  and  disappointment.  Draw 
ing  out  the  bracelet,  however,  he  presented  it  to  her,  say 
ing,— 

"Miss  Lacy,  I  found  this  near  the  door  of  the  opera 
house,  and  presuming  from  the  initials  it  might  be  yours, 
came  here  to  inquire." 

A  look  of  wonder  and  admiration  lit  up  the  cold  eyes  of 
the  tall,  impassive  nun  even,  as  they  fell  upon  the  match 
less  splendor  of  that  jeweled  serpent,  and  the  sickly- looking, 
red-eyed  girl,  starting  back,  as  if  frightened  by  the  writhing 
snaky  motion  of  those  opalescent  scales,  exclaimed,  in  a 
little,  squeaking  voice, — 


THE   RESCUE.  199 

"  Oh,  mercy !  that's  not  mine  !  I  never  owned  a  jewel  in 
my  life — never  an  ornament  save  this,"  touching  the  cross 
and  rosary  about  her  neck,  "and  a  bracelet  made  of  the 
hair  of  all  my  sisters  and  brothers,  and  father  and  mother, 
and  Uncle  John,  and  Aunt  Maria,  which  fell  off  my  arm 
the  last  time  we  went  walking  with  Sister  Cecilia ;  so  I 
thought  maybe  that  it  might  be  that  you  had  found,"  and 
putting  her  handkerchief  up  to  her  face,  the  sallow  young 
lady  began  to  sniffle,  and  rub  her  eyes,  giving  vent  to 
sundry  and  divers  sentimental  little  sobs,  at  the  sight  of  a 
valuable  bracelet  in  place  of  the  variegated,  hairy  ornament 
she  had  described. 

"It  is . rather  queer  that  there  should  be  two  Olivia 
Lacys,"  said  Mr.  Clifford,  who,  though  provoked  beyond 
measure,  could  scarcely  help  laughing  at  the  absurdity  of 
the  scene. 

"Mon  Dieu!"  squeaked  out  the  little  woman;  "my 
name  is  not  Olivia ;  who  said  it  was  ? — my  name  's  Anna 
Maria  Lacy !" 

"  I  thought  you  told  me  Miss  Olivia  Lacy  was  one  of 
your  pupils!"  exclaimed  Lenox,  almost  in  a  tone  of  fury, 
turning  upon  the  holy  mother  a  look  full  enough  of  fire  to 
melt  this  monastic  iceberg,  if  anything  could ;  and  a  spark 
of  his  anger  was  reflected  by  an  answering  flash  from  hers, 
as  she  answered, — 

"  Young  man,  you  asked  for  Miss  Lacy,  without  giving 
her  first  name,  hence  this  foolish  mistake  v.as  your  own 


200  WOODBURN. 

fault,  not  mine.  Anna  Maria,  you  may  return  to  your 
lessons.  Sir,  I  presume  our  interview  is  at  an  end, "  and 
she  bowed  slightly,  as  if  giving  him  a  signal  to  withdraw. 

True,  he  remembered  now — in  the  excitement  and  anx 
iety  of  the  moment,  he  had  failed  to  give  the  whole  name, 
for  his  mind  was  full  of  one  Miss  Lacy,  and  he  never 
thought,  until  aggravated  by  loss  of  time,  that  there  might 
be  another. 

"  I  beg  ydur  pardon,"  he  stammered  out,  quite  ashamed 
of  his  late  wrath ;  "I  remember,  now,  it  is  all  my  own 
fault  truly,  and  I  regret  having  troubled  you."  Saying 
which  he  hastily  withdrew,  and  soon  found  himself  sorely 
perplexed  again,  wandering  about  the  streets  of  Paris. 
Several  other  convents  were  visited,  and  then  some  of  the 
first  boarding  schools,  but  no  Miss  Lacy  could  he  find,  and 
at  last,  weary  and  dispirited,  with  the  day  far  spent,  he  was 
on  the  point  of  abandoning  the  search,  and  determined  to 
go  alone  with  the  first  policeman  who  would  credit  his 
story,  and  watch  the  street  indicated  by  Henrique  as  that 
where  Orliff  should  stop  the  carriage,  when  suddenly  re 
membering  the  name  of  Dr.  Le  Branch,  as  .the  friend  and 
physician  who  it  was1  to  be  pretended  had  sent  for  Miss 
Lacy,  he  determined  to  try  and  find  that  person,  learn 
from  him  where  to  find  her,  or,  if  too  late  for  a  warning, 
prevail  upon  this  gentleman  to  go  with  him,  and  attempt 
at  least  the  rescue  of  the  deluded  girl :  for  Lenox  Clifford 
felt  a  strong  conviction  that  Henrique's  plot  was  artfully 


THE   RESCUE.  201 

contrived,  and  would  scarcely  fail  to  succeed.  After  va 
rious  unavailing  efforts,  he  was  at  last  directed  to  the  office 
of  a  physician  of  that  name,  and  where,  though  almost  con 
stantly  engaged  he  might  be  found ;  but  it  was  then  after 
noon,  and  he  trembled  at  the  thought  that,  even  did  he  find 
Dr.  Le  Branch,  it  might  be,  alas !  too  late  to  save  Olivia 
Lacy :  yet  still  he  would  make  this  last  effort,  and,  if 
again  defeated,  go  alone  to  the  Rue . 

This  time  he  was  successful,  however,  in  finding  the 
gentleman  he  sought — for  no  sooner  did  he  say  (after  in 
troducing  himself)  : 

11  You  are,  I  believe,  a  friend  of  Miss  Olivia  Lacy," 
than  the  fine  benevolent  countenance  of  Doctor  Le  Branch 
lit  up  pleasantly,  as  he  replied  : 

"  Yes,  I  have  the  happiness  of  being  numbered  among 
her  friends,  having  been  for  many  years  a  particular  friend 
of  her  grandfather  and  her  aunt,  Madam  Armond." 

"  For  God's  sake  come  with  me  then,  at  once,  and 
quickly  too,"  said  the  young  Englishman  hastily,  "  if  you 
would  save  her  from  a  fearful  danger,  worse  than  death,  and 
catching  hold  of  the  astonished  stranger,  he  hurried  him 
into  the  street,  saying  : 

"  We  must  not  loiter  a  moment,  and  you  shall  hear  my 
story  as  we  go  along." 

So  completely  was  he  absorbed  in  relating  Henrique's 
plot  to  gain  possession  of  Miss  Lacy,  that  the  bracelet  he 
had  found  and  the  coincidence  of  the  letters  upon  it,  cor- 


202  WOODBURN. 

responding  with  her  initials,  was  for  the  time  forgotten, 
and  without  going  into  particulars  regarding  his  adventures 
of  the  morning,  Mr.  Clifford  simply  stating  that  all  his 
endeavors  to  find  the  young  lady  had  proved  fruitless,  ex 
pressed  an  overpowering  fear,  (as  they  hurried  onward,) 
that  those  two  villains  had  already  succeeded  in  accomplish 
ing  their  dark  scheme,  and  ere  then  perhaps  Olivia  Lacy 
might  be  in  their  power  beyond  the  reach  of  assist 
ance. 

The  excitement  of  both  became  so  intense  while  dwelling 
upon  such  a  possibility,  that  after  stopping  for  a  moment 
to  secure  the  company  of  a  policeman,  (a  necessary  and  wise 
precaution,)  their  rapid  walk  merged  into  a  run  upon 

nearing  the  locality  indicated  by  Henrique,  where  Orliff 

> 
might  expect  to   find  him.     At  last,  weary  and   almost 

breathless  with  fear  and  fatigue,  they  neared  the  corner  of 
the  Rue — where  they  saw  a  boy  (perhaps  twelve  years  of 
age)  looking  with  eager  curiosity  at  a  carriage  some  con 
siderable  distance  up  the  street,  and  driving  furiously  in 
an  opposite  direction.  Lenox  Clifford  comprehended  the 
whole  in  a  moment,  and  felt  quite  sure  this  same  lad  was 
the  "  pretty  little  nephew  "  Henrique  had  appointed  to  act 
as  footman  to  Orliff. 

"We  are  too  late."  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "poor,  dear 
child !  but  be  quick,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  policeman, 
"  we  must  pursue  them ;  bring  the  lightest  carriage  and 
the  swiftest  horses  you  can  find,  and  he  poured  some  gold 


THE   RESCUE.  203 

into  the  man's  hand,  while  Lenox  going  up  to  the  boy, 
asked  him : 

"  Why  he  was  watching  that  carriage  so  earnestly,  and 
who  was  in  it  ?  " 

"  Mister  Henrique,"  replied  the  child,  (looking  up  in 
innocent  wonder,)  "  he's  gone  off  to  be  married  with,  Oh  ! 
such  a  beautiful  young  lady.  I  thought  she  was  going  to 
her  aunt's  until  just  now,  when  Mr.  Henrique  jumped  into 
the  carriage,  and  then  Uncle  Orliff,  who  is  driving  (for 
he's  a  great  friend  of  Mr.  Henrique),  winked  at  me,  and 
laughed,  and  said : 

"  '  They  are  going  to  run  off  together,  you  can  jump 
down  now,  and  don't  tell  anybody,'  and  I  would' nt  only 
may  be  you're  her  brother,  and  I've  heard  mamma  say  it  was 
wicked  in  young  girls  to  run  off  from  home  to  be  married, 
but  don't  tell  on  me  and  I  will  tell  you  something  " — put 
ting  his  lips  up  to  Mr.  Clifford's  ear, — 

"  When  Mr.  Henrique  got  in  and  slammed  the  carriage 
door  the  young  lady  screamed,  (just  as  I  was  jumping 
down,)  and  I  said : 

"Poor  thing!  uncle,  what  makes  her  do  that?  and  he 
said,  '  She's  screaming  for  joy,  she's  so  glad  to  see  him,' 
and  then  he  cracked  his  whip,  and  the  horses  dashed  away 
so  fast,  you  see  they  are  nearly  out  of  sight.  Please  don't 
tell  Uncle  Orliff  I  told  you  anything  about  it,  or  he  will 
be  very  angry ;  and  he's  kind  to  me,  and  gives  me  nice 
clothes  and  good  things,  but  I  wish  he  had'nt  been  mixed 


204  WOODBURN. 

up  with  this  matter,  for  spite  of  what  he  said,  I  don't  be 
lieve  the  lady  wanted  to  go,  or  she  would'nt  have  screamed 
like  that." 

"No  she  did  not — you  are  a  bright  boy,  take  this," 
(giving  the  child  a  coin,)  "  and  be  warned  by  me  to  keep 
out  of  your  uncle's  way,  and  Mr.  Henrique's  too,  for  they 
are  both  wicked  men,  and  will  teach  you  no  good." 

The  boy  hung  his  head,  and  went  off  looking  pale  and 
frightened,  just  as  the  light  chaise  they  had  sent  for  came 
dashing  up — when  the  three  set  off  in  full  pursuit  of 
Henrique's  carriage,  which  was  now  entirely  out  of  sight, 
and  must  be  mor$  than  two  miles  in  advance  of  them.  On, 
on  they  sped  for  two  hours,  following  the  fresh  tracks, 
yet  fearing,  at  every  cross  road,  that  the  fugitives  had 
turned  off,  and  thus  were  escaping,  though  wherever  they 
inquired  the  same  answer  met  them : — 

"  A  carriage  closely  shut  and  driven  very  fast  had  gone 
by  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  before  ;  "  and  so  they 
dashed  on  out  beyond  the  city  limits — where  the  road 
turned  off  from  the  river  Seine  in  a  southwesterly  direction, 
when  suddenly  the  policeman  (who  was  driving)  drew  up 
vrhere  three  country  roads  branched  off  from  the  highway, 
and  they  paused  a  moment,  perplexed  to  know  which  to 
choose,  (for  two  showed  signs  of  being  recently  traveled,) 
deciding  at  last  in  favor  of  the  one  which  appeared  most 
unfrequented,  and  evidently  led  towards  a  lonely  broken 
district.  Another  hour's  hard  riding  brought  them  in 


THE   RESCUE.  205 

. 

sight  of  a  forlorn  looking-  house,  that  might  once  have 
been  a  way-side  inn,  but  now  sadly  dilapidated,  weather- 
stained,  and  apparently  uninhabited ;  it  presented  no  very 
inviting  appearance  as  they  drew  up  to  it,  determined  if 
possible  to  find  some  one  on  the  premises,  who  might  give 
information  regarding  the  objects  of  their  pursuit — and 
besides  the  jaded  horses  must  have  rest  before  continuing 
their  journey. 

As  they  approached  near  enough  to  obtain  a  closer  view 
of  the  surroundings,  though  windows  and  doors  were 
closely  shut,  the  keen  eye  of  the  policeman  detected,  by 
the  uncertain  light — for  dusk  had  overtaken  them — a  close 
carriage  standing  underneath  a  broken  shed  near  by, 
while  the  flicker  of  what  might  be  a  solitary  candle  shone 
through  the  black  slats  of  an  upper  window  shutter. 

"  We  have  caught  our  game,  I  fancy,"  he  whispered, 
jumping  down  and  motioning  us  to  alight,  by  a  broken, 
zig-zag  path  that  led  up  to  the  door,  over  a  slight  decliv 
ity,  and  then  he  pointed  out  the  carriage,  which  evidently 
could  not  belong  to  such  a  dismal  looking  establishment ; 
but  there  were  no  horses  near  it. 

"  Be  quiet  and  cautious,"  he  continued,  "  for  such  wily 
birds  are  swift  of  wing,  and  may  escape  us  even  yet ;  for  I 
am  satisfied  they  are  here,  feeling  secure  against  pursuit  in 
such  a  dark  nest." 

Catching  the  reins  round  an  old  post,  he  signified  that 
the  doctor  and  Mr.  Clifford  should  go  up  stealthily  to  the 


206  WOODBURN. 

front,  while  he  crept  round  to  the  back  door  of  the  house, 
from  which  it  was  most  likely  the  two  men  would  strive  to 
escape,  when  advised  of  our  presence.  Kntwing  the  des 
perate  characters  they  were  to  deal  with,  all  three  of  them 
were  of  course  armed,  as  Lenox  Clifford,  having  under 
taken  an  uncertain  adventure  in  the  morning,  concealed  a 
small  dirk  and  pistol  ahout  his  person,  and  the  doctor,  to 
whom  he  left  no  time  for  arming  himself,  in  their  sudden 
departure,  had  heen  provided  with  a  pistol  by  the  police 
man. 

So  stealthy  was  their  approach,  that  no  alarm  could 
have  been  taken  by  those  inside,  at  all  events  until  they 
had  gained  their  respective  positions  at  the  back  and  front 
doors,  and  even  the  gentle  knock  Mr.  Clifford  gave  was 
not  calculated  to  excite  alarm ;  it  was  repeated  rather 
louder  before  a  dark  elfish  looking  face  was  protruded 
through  a  window,  which  at  last  was  cautiously  opened,  to 
the  right  of  the  door,  and  its  owner,  apparently  a  girl  of 
some  fifteen  years  of  age,  said,  in  a  surly,  half  sleepy  tone 
of  voice, 

"  Who  be  ye,  and  what  do  ye  want  here  !" 

"  Travelers,"  was  the  reply,  "  we  are  weary,  and  want 
some  supper." 

"  Well,  it's  not  here  ye'll  get  the  likes  of  that,"  said  the 
girl  bluntly,  for  there's  nobody  here  but  me  and  granny, 
and  she's  gone  to  bed,  and  we  don't  keep  a  tavern  no  way, 
so  you'd  just  as  well  go  on,"  and  the  dark,  blowsy  head 


THE   RESCUE.  207 

was  partly  withdrawn,  when  the  doctor  arrested  her  atten 
tion  and  hand  at  the  same  time  (for  she  was  about  closing 
the  shutter,)  by  holding  out  a  gold  coin,  of  which  her 
eager  eye  caught  sight  in  the  twilight,  as  he  said, 

"We  will  pay  you  well  for  even  a  glass  of  water,  and 
water  for  our  horses,  if  you  will  let  us  come  in  for  awhile, 
• — if  granny's  asleep,  she  won't  mind,  and  we'll  be  very 
quiet,  come  now,  open  the  door." 

And  he  held  up  the  tempting  bait  again,  which  her  cu 
pidity  could  not  resist ;  and  making  a  motion  for  them  to 
be  very  quiet,  she  closed  the  window  cautiously,  and  in  a 
moment  was  heard  withdrawing  the  bolt  and  unlocking  the 
door. 

So  soon  as  they  stood  face  to  face  with  this  gypsy-like 
lassie,  the  coin  was  slipped  adroitly  into  her  hand,  as  the 
doctor  and  Lenox  Clifford  edged  their  way  into  the  pas 
sage,  for  she  held  the  door,  as  she  had  the  window,  only 
half  open,  and  was  evidently  half  frightened  at  what  she 
had  done,  after  they  were  fairly  inside ;  observing  which, 
and  seeing  they  were  quite  alone  with  the  girl,  as  the  pas 
sage  doors  leading  into  other  rooms,  and  also  the  back 
door,  were  close  shut,  Mr.  Clifford  whispered, 

"You  have  other  visitors.     Where  are  they?" 

The  large,  lazy  looking  eyes  dilated  in  evident  terror,  as 
she  replied,  hurriedly, 

"  No,  we  a'nt;  there's  no  soul  around,  except  me  and 
granny." 


208  WOODBURN. 

"Does  your  granny  keep  a  fine  carriage,  then?"  he 
continued,  half  inclined  to  laugh  at  the  absurdity  of  such 
an  idea,  "  for  we  saw  one  under  the  shed,  and  hark  ye, 
girl,  we  know  there  are  three  people  here  now,  though  you 
are  taught  to  deny  it — two  men  and  a  young  lady,  who 
was  taken  from  home  against  her  will,  and  whom  we  are 
here  to  protect ;  show  us  where  she  is,  and  you  shall  be 
liberally  rewarded,  and  protected  against  your  granny's 
anger  and  that  of  the  men  by  us ;  refuse,  and  we  will  not 
only  find  her  we  seek  in  spite  of  you,  but  afterwards  you 
shall  go  to  prison." 

The  last  word  either  startled,  or  the  hope  of  gain 
tempted  her  into  obedience,  for  laying  her  finger  on  her 
lip,  she  led  them  into  a  great,  dreary  looking  room,  where 
there  was  no  light  save  a  few  flickering  embers  on  the 
hearth. 

"  Hush,"  she  whispered,  "  for  granny's  asleep  in  there 
(pointing  to  another  door),  and  he's  there,  too  (the  one 
that  drove),  drinking  brandy.  Oh,  I  know  they'll  beat 
me  for  letting  you  in,"  and  the  dark  girl  began  to  tremble 
as  we  approached  the  door. 

"  Go  outside,  then,  and  hide  in  the  shed  behind  the  car 
riage,  until  we  tell  you  it's  safe  to  come  back,  only  first 
tell  us  where  the  lady  is  and  the  other  man." 

"  Way  up  in  the  third  story,  you'll  see  a  light  through 
the  crack  of  the  door,  and  the  stairs  lead  up  from  that 
room  there,"  (pointing  in  the  same  direction.)  She  left  them 


THE   KESCUE.  209 

hastily,  and  they  heard  her  shut  the  front  door  softly  on 
going  out.  Peeping  in  through  the  empty  keyhole  into 
the  next  room,  they  saw  a  man  before  the  fire,  near  a  table 
whereon  was  a  bottle  and  tumbler,  from  which  he  had 
doubtless  been  quaffing  potent  draughts,  now  having  their 
effect,  for  he  was  asleep  in  his  chair;  and  no  sooner  did 
young  Clifford's  eyes  rest  on  him  than  he  recognized  the 
tall,  dangling  figure  and  sallow  visage  of  Orliff. 

"  Go,  open  the  back  door,  and  beckon  in  De  Lon,"  said 
the  doctor,  "  for  this  chap  must  be  left  in  his  keeping,  and 
the  old  woman  kept  from  howling,  until  we  seek  Olivia 
and  deal  with  Henrique.  Mon  Dieu  !  it  makes  me  sick  to 
think  we  may  be  too  late  to  save  her  from  infamy." 

In  another  moment  De  Lon  (the  policeman)  was  with  us, 
and  then  softly  unclosing  the  door,  his  strong  hand  fell  on 
Orliff 's  shoulder,  and  the  words,  "  you  are  my  prisoner," 
were  hissed  in  his  ear  before  he  awoke.  Startled  and 
astonished,  and  jumping  up  with  an  oath,  demanded  by 
what  authority  we  were  there?  But  his  potations  had 
been  strong  enough  to  unsettle  his  equilibrium  if  not  his 
mind,  for,  staggering  backwards,  he  was  soon  forced  into 
the  chair"  again  beneath  De  Lon's  powerful  grasp,  who  said 
hurriedly : 

"We  are  three  to  one;  it  is  useless  to  resist."  For 
Orliff  was  evidently  striving,  in  a  half-drunken,  fumbling 
style,  to  feel  for  some  hidden  weapon. 

"It's  just  as  I  said,"  he  drawled  out,  (hiccoughing  be- 


210  WOODBURN. 

tween  his  words)  "  damn  Henrique's  folly ;  let  me  go," 
and  he  made  a  spring  forward.  But  the  strong  hold  was 
only  relaxed  long  enough  to  get  out  hand-cuffs,  while, 
with  our  assistance,  he  was  secured  before  the  old  hag, 
designated  as  "  granny,"  and  who  was  snoring  on  a  narrow 
cot  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room,  awoke  and  gave  a  shrill 
screech  which  must  "have  sounded  throughout  the  house, 
and  fearing  that  Henrique,  alarmed  thereby,  might  make 
his  escape,  young  Clifford  and  the  doctor  bounded  up  the 
dark,  tottering  stairway,  leaving  De  Lon  to  guard  Orliff  and 
silence  the  old  woman.  The  stairs  were  narrow,  and  in 
some  places  so  dilapidated  as  to  be  almost  unsafe ;  but  by 
.striking  a  match  or  two  they  gained  the  third  story  speedily, 
and  when  on  the  last  step,  heard  a  voice,  as  if  in  agony  of 
despair,  cry  out : 

"Help!     Oh  God!" 

Then  there  followed  a  struggle,  and  ere  they  gained  the 
door  (through  which  a  light  was  visible)  a  sharp,  angry 
cry,  as  if  wrung  from  a  man  by  severe  pain,  rang  out,  as 
Henrique,  who  no  doubt  by  this  time  heard  their  footsteps, 
(yet  hoping  to  escape)  burst  through  the  door  and  .strove 
to  rush  past  them,  but  was  caught  and  held  between  those 
two  strong  men  as  if  in  a  vice,  while  the  light,  streaming 
through  that  open  door,  served  to  reveal  a  great  stream  of 
blood  pouring  down  from  a  deep  cut  in  his  face,  just  under 
the  right  eye.  This  severe  depletion  doubtless  rendering 


THE   RESCUE.  211 

his  resistance  less  determined  than  it  would  otherwise  have 
been. 

By  this  time  (having  secured  Orliff  in  a  closet  below 
stairs)  De  Lon  had  hurried  up  to  their  assistance,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  shackle  Henrique,  who  swore  fearfully,  heaping 
curses  on  them  and  on  "That  damned  little  fury;"  by 
whom  he  of  course  meant  Olivia,  while  they  in '  turn 
were  wondering  how  she  had  managed  to  wound  him  so 
severely  ? 

"  Secure  those  two  villains  in  the  close  carriage  at  once, 
De  Lon,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  prepare  for  our  departure. 
You  can  drive  them  to  prison,  while  we  take  the  poor  child 
home,  dead  or  alive — for  perhaps  he  has  killed  her." 

And  as  he  hurried  on  with  Lenox  into  the  room,  Hen 
rique  was  taken  down  by  the  policeman. 

As  they  entered  that  dismal  chamber,  where  a  fearful 
stillness  had  reigned  since  Henrique  rushed  out,  the  sight 
that  met  them  was  truly  appalling — for  there,  on  the  floor, 
in  one  corner  of  the  room,  lay  Olivia  Lacy  bespattered 
with  blood,  her  very  lips  white  as  those  of  a  corpse,  while 
the  great  length  of  her  black  hair  (having  fallen  down 
during  her  struggle  with  Henrique)  served  to  make  that 
rigid,  marble-like  paleness  more  striking.  For  a  moment 
those  two  men,  free  from  all  personal  fear,  stood  so  horror- 
stricken  at  the  sight  they  could  neither  move  nor  speak — 
for  the  same  conviction  possessed  them  both  that  she  was 
dead,  murdered  by  that  fiend  in  human  shape ;  as  she  did 


212  WOODBURN. 

not  stir,  and  the  blood  looked  so  frightful  all  over  her 
bosom  and  light  dress,  they  supposed  it  must  be  flowing 
from  some  fatal  wound  he  had  inflicted,  forgetting  for  a 
moment  the  cut  in  his  face  which  had  bled  so  profusely. 

At  last  they  lifted  her  senseless  form  on  to  a  ragged  old 
sofa  bed — almost  the  only  furniture  in  that  forlorn  room — 
and  in  doing  so,  her  right  hand  (hidden  as  she  lay  on  the 
floor  by  her  thick  black  hair)  being  displaced,  relaxed  its 
rigid  hold  and  something  fell  from  it,  striking  the  floor 
with  a  ringing  sound  like  metal,  and  when  Mr.  Clifford 
picked  it  up,  to  their  great  astonishment  it  proved  a  costly 
Spanish  stiletto  of  fine  workmanship,  the  handle  inlaid 
with  gold  and  gems,  while  the  delicate  keen  blade  was  now 
blood-stained. 

Had  she  stabbed  herself? 

No,  there  was  no  wound — and  as  the  doctor  (now  re 
gaining  his  usual  presence  of  mind)  felt  her  pulse,  he 
exclaimed,  joyfully : 

"  She  has  only  fainted." 

And  then,  while  they  bathed  her  lips  and  face  with  cold 
water,  she  gradually  revived,  but  when  at  last  her  dark 
eyes  opened  it  was  to  gaze  on  them  with  a  look  of  fright 
ened  wonder,  for  her  senses  were  evidently  wandering  and 
unsettled  by  terror  and  intense  excitement,  so  much  so  the 
doctor  feared  a  violent  attack  of  fever  as  the  result. 

Ere  they  drove  away  from  that  wretched  house  the 
elfish  face,  with  its  uncombed  locks,  was  upturned  to 


THE   RESCUE.  213 

them,  wearing  a  look  of  pallid  terror,  as  the  dark  girl 
pleaded : 

"  For  the  Blessed  Virgin's  sake  that  she  and  her  granny 
might  not  be  sent  to  prison.  She  thought  the  gentleman 
and  lady  was  going  to  be  married,  and  did  not  know  there 
was  any  harm  in  letting  them  stay  awhile." 

The  promise  was  given  that  they  should  not  suffer  for 
the  present  offence  ;  but  Mr.  Clifford  said,  after  seeing  the 
supposed  groom  and  his  friend  put  in  irons  and  taken  off 
to  prison,  he  fancied  the  cunning  damsel  and  old  crone 
would  be  very  careful  in  future  how  they  entertained  wed 
ding  guests  !  The  ride  home  was  long  and  sad,  for  Miss 
Lacy  continued  wild,  or  almost  insensible  by  turns,  from 
which  and  a  certain  peculiar  odor  about  her  clothes,  Dr. 
Le  Branch  felt  convinced  that  previous  to  her  struggle 
with  Henrique  she  must  have  been  for  some  time  under 
the  influence  of  chlorofwm ;  perhaps  the  villain  had  used  it 
during  their  flight  to  stop  her  screams.  Nothing  further 
could  be  known,  however,  until  her  mind  was  clear  again, 
and  we  were  entirely  at  a  loss  regarding  the  stiletto,  (so 
opportunely  in  her  possession,)  and  which  she  had  used  so 
bravely. 

On  arriving  a  little  before  midnight  at  Madam  Armond's, 
they  found  her  in  a  state  of  distracted  fear  about  her  niece, 
who,  failing  to  come  at  the  usual  hour  on  that  (Friday) 
evening,  as  was  her  custom,  she  had  gone  to  the  Catholic 
academy,  and  there  learning  that  Miss  Lacy  had  left 


214  WOODBURN. 

several  hours  before  in  a  carriage  sent  by  Dr.  Le  Branch — 
supposing  her  aunt  to  be  ill  (as  that  was  the  message) — 
Madam  Armond  sought  the  doctor,  and  not  finding  him, 
feeling  helpless,  yet  almost  frantic  at  the  thought  of  un 
known  and  frightful  dangers  to  which  Olivia  must  be 
exposed,  she  and  many  sympathizing  friends  had  been  for 
hours  engaged  in  making  inquiries  through  the  city,  and 
dispatching  messengers  in  various  directions  to  try  and  gain 
some  clue  to  the  direction  taken  by  the  carriage  in  which 
Olivia  left — but  all  efforts  proved  fruitless^  and  when  at 
last  Mr.  Clifford  and  her  old  friend  the  doctor  bore  the 
almost  insensible  girl  into  her  presence,  giving  hurried 
details  of  the  danger  from  which  they  had  rescued  her, 
Madam  Armond  (a  handsome,  regal  looking  woman,  to 
whom  Olivia  bore  a  striking  resemblance)  was  perfectly 
overcome  by  the  horror  of  that  peril,  and  the  happiness 
of  its  being  partially  averted  and  ^pivia  saved  by  a  total 
stranger,  to  whom  the  curious  chance  of  supping  at  an 
restaurant  after  the  opera  had  revealed  Henrique's  plot. 

And  the  stiletto, — of  it  she  knew  nothing,  and  was  not 
aware  that  her  niece  ever  carried  one — in  fact,  knew  she 
did  not  generally — another  singular  incident  which  ap 
peared  providential. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

WHERE   OLIVIA   LACY   FOUND   THE   STILETTO. 

,, 

*<8* 

"  You  are  too  bold  ' 
Eetire  I  retire  !  leave  me  ! — LONGFELLOW. 

THE  severe,  though  not  very  protracted  illness  of  Miss 
Lacy  prevented  Mr.  Clifford  from  seeing  her  for  more  than 
a  week  after  that  dreadful  night,  though  he  went  to  inquire 
for  her  daily,  and  soon  became  a  favorite  with  Madam  Ar- 
mond,  not  only  on  account  of  the  great  gratitude  she  felt 
for  the  inestimable  ben^t  he  had  rendered,  but  also  for  the 
sake  of  an  old  friendship  with  his  father  and  uncle,  whom 
she  had  known  years  before  when  they  were  in  Paris. 

Now,  all  this  time  Lenox  said  no  word  about  the  brace 
let,  for  the  more  he  looked  at  it  the  more  certain  he  felt  of 
its  belonging  to  none  other  than  Olivia,  and  he  became 
gradually  possessed  with  a  desire  to  present  it  to  her  when 
well  enough  to  receive  him,  without  her  being  informed  of 
its  recovery  even,  and  therefore  he  refrained  from  mention 
ing  it  either  to  her  aunt  or  the  doctor,  as  they  might  wish  to 
please  her  by  giving  a  hint  about  the  costly  trinket,  over 


216  WOODBURN. 

the  loss  of  which  she  must  have  grieved  no  little,  and  thus 
mar  the  innocently  selfish  pleasure  he  expected  from  the 
surprise  and  delight  she  must  naturally  evince  upon  seeing 
it  suddenly  restored  to  her. 

At  last  they  met. 

In  telling  this  story,  Mr.  Clifford  entered  into  no  descrip 
tion  of  Miss  Lacy's  appearance,  save  to  remark, — 

"Pearl  is  almost  an  image  of  Olivia,  though  slightly 
taller,  and  with  less  olive  in  her  complexion." 

We  needed  not  to  be  told  that  she  was  beautiful,  for 
even  had  Pearl  resembled  her  less,  the  miniature  heretofore 
spoken  of,  must  have  put  to  rest  all  doubt  upon  the  subject. 

And  then,  upon  that  first  meeting,  Lenox  Clifford  pre 
sented  Miss  Lacy  with  a  superb  bouquet  of  exotics,  among 
the  rich  flowers  of  which  he  had  wreathed  the  opal  snake 
so  cunningly  that,  as  she  took  it  from  his  hand,  those 
jeweled  scales^  quivered,  and  the  fa|Jy  he  had  been  nursing 
of  how  the  girl's  delight  and  astonishment  were  to  reward 
him  as  the  finder  of  that  beautiful  bauble,  was  fully  realized, 
for  no  sooner  did  her  eyes  rest  upon  it  than  she  ex 
claimed, — 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Clifford!  where  did  you  find  my  dear,  lovely 
bracelet  ?  What  can  I  ever  do  to  repay  you,  first  of  all, 
for  saving  me  from  that  vile  Henrique  Lorraine,  and  now, 
for  bringing  back  this !"  and  she  kissed  the  glittering 
snake  as  it  shone  among  those  rare  flowers.  "  Grand-papa 
sent  it  to  me  last  autumn,  on  my  eighteenth  birthday !  Oh, 


WHERE   OLIVIA   LACY   FOUND   THE   STILETTO.         217 

how  many  a  bitter  tear  have  I  shed  since  losing  it  at  the 
opera." 

And  they  went  on  to  talk  of  the  very  singular  events, 
all  leading  to  their  acquaintance,  when,  in  referring  to  the 
stiletto  with  which  she  had  wounded  Henrique  in  the  face, 
Miss  Lacy  said, — 

"The  peculiar  circumstances  leading  to  my  possession 
of  it,  you  will  find  almost  the  queerest  part  of  what  is  cer 
tainly  altogether  a  very  remarkable  affair.  This  villain, 
Henrique  Lorraine,  who  I  am  told  belongs  to  quite  a  good 
family  in  Madrid,  and  came  here  under  the  pretence  of 
studying  for  the  priesthood,  forced  his  acquaintance  upon 
me  at  the  Catholic  Academy,  where  I  have  been  for  some 
time  devoting  myself  to  the  languages  and  music,  and  on 
several  occasions,  when  here  at  home  with  my  aunt,  he  has 
sent  me  bouquets,  and  the  most  absurd  love-letters,  which 
coming  during  my  absence,  I  could  not  of  course  return, 
being  entirely  ignorant  as  to  where  he  might  be  found,  and 
our  servants  never  even  saw  the  messenger,  who,  after 
ringing  the  bell,  left  the  basket  and  letter  in  the  vestibule. 
At  last  one  morning,  when  my  aunt  was  out,  and  I  had 
just  come  in  from  driving,  this  impertinent  man,  present 
ing  himself  hi  person,  told  the  servant  he  wished  to  see  me 
a  moment  on  particular  business,  when,  being  quite  igno 
rant  who  was  calling  for  me,  and  supposing  it  might  be 
some  of  the  trades  people,  I  ordered  the  man  to  show  him 
in — recognizing  too  late  this  same  Henrique,  whose  atten- 

10 


218  WOODBURN. 

tions  had  for  some  time  been  annoying  me  almost  to  perse 
cution.  The  moment  we  were  alone  he  commenced  giving 
utterance  to  the  most  frantic  protestations  of  love,  swearing 
he  had  given  up  all  thought  of  assuming  holy  orders  for 
my  sake,  and  was  determined  to  make  me  love  him ;  when, 
finding  all  my  powers  of  persuasion  were  vainly  wasted  in 
endeavors  to  rid  myself  of  this  troublesome  visitor,  I  rang 
for  the  servant,  and,  after  saying  very  quietly, — 

"Mr.  Lorraine  is  going — show  him  to  the  door,"  left 
the  room.  This  conduct  I  thought  would  most  certainly 
free  me  from  further  annoyance,  but  it  failed  to  do  so,  for 
he  continued  to  seek  me  in  various  ways,  and  one  night,  a 
short  time  before  the  loss  of  my  bracelet,  at  a  large  fancy 
mask-ball  I  attended  at  Madam  's,  on  which  oc 
casion  my  costume  was  that  of  a  lady  belonging  to  the 
Spanish  noblesse,  soon  after  entering  the  room,  I  found 
myself  closely  followed  by  a  Spanish  hidalgo,  whose  short, 
thick-set  figure  reminded  me  of  Henrique,  though  at  first 
I  only  fancied  it  to  be  a  resemblance,  the  thought  of  his 
really  being  there  never  occurring  to  me. 

As  the  evening  wore  on,  however,  seeking  the  first  op 
portunity  of  my  being  alone,  he  asked  me  to  dance,  in  a 
voice  so  well  disguised,  that  I  assented,  feeling  curious  to 
find  out  who  the  mask,  by  whom  I  had  been  so  constantly 
pursued,  could  be.  Knowing  me  to  be  acquainted  with 
Spanish,  young  Lorraine  had  always  spoken  to  me  in  that 
language,  and  while  we  were  dancing,  this  mask  conversed 


WHERE   OLIVIA   LACY    FOUND   THE   STILETTO.        219 

in  French,  and  in  the  voice,  as  I  believed,  of  a  stranger. 
When  the  dance  was  over,  we  walked  into  a  conservatory, 
where  he  decoyed  me  by  a  promise  to  relate  something 
very  agreeable,  and  finding  his  company  rather  amusing 
than  otherwise,  I  did  not  object,  feeling  that  there  was 
something  quite  interesting  and  piquant  in  a  little  flirtation 
with  this  mysterious  personage,  who,  when  we  were  there, 
did  not  leave  me  long  in  ignorance  of  his  name,  and  upon 
finding  myself  again  alone  with  Henrique,  I  would  have 
made  a  precipitate  retreat. 

Provoked  and  annoyed,  I  upbraided  him  with  deceiving 
me,  at  the  same  time  telling- this  impertinent  neophyte 
that  I  believed  his  presence  at  the  ball  an  intrusion,  feel 
ing  confident  he  had  never  been  invited. 

Now  all  this  was  calculated  to  make  him  very  angry, 
but  he  either  did  not  heed  my  animadversions,  or  was  de 
termined  to  try  and  gain  my  ear  and  overcome  my  aver 
sion  by  pouring  forth  his  protestations  of  love  once  more, 
and  imploring  me  at  least  to  allow  him  the  privilege  of 
visiting  me,  as  it  was  his  determination  to  quit  the  country 
in  any  event. 

I  turned  to  leave  him  in  the  midst  of  this  absurd  rhap 
sody,  and  more  irritated  than  I  had  been  on  previous  oc 
casions  even,  told  him  to  desist  at  once  and  forever,  as  his 
love  was  not  only  unrequited,  but  that  I  despised  him ; 
when,  catching  hold  of  my  dress  in  a  frantic  manner,  he 


-220  WOODBURN. 

pulled  me  back,  and  snatching  out  a  stiletto  from  his  gir 
dle — this  causing  me  to  cry  out  with  alarm — said, — 

"  Here,  kill  me — don't  be  frightened,  I  am  not  going 
to  murder  you — stab  me,  I  cannot,  will  not  live  without 
you." 

"  Let  me  go,"  I  exclaimed,  tearing  myself  from  his 
grasp,  "or  I  shall  call  for  assistance,"  and  as  by  this  time 
we  heard  voices  approaching,  he  rushed  past  me  with  a 
muttered  curse,  dropping  the  stiletto  in  his  hasty  retreat, 
which  I  picked  up  and  concealed,  passing  out  through  an 
other  door  into  the  dancing  room  before  the  persons  whose 
voices  we  had  heard,  entered  the  conservatory;  for  I 
dreaded  the  idea  of  my  interview  with  Henrique  being 
known,  feeling  sure  he  was  there  without  an  invitation,  for 
the  purpose  of  seeing  me,  and  therefore,  I  caught  up  the 
stiletto,  fearing,  if  discovered,  it  might  lead  to  an  expose 
of  the  whole  affair,  and  determined,  with  my  aunt's  advice 
and  assistance,  to  return  it  to  him  at  the  earliest  possible 
opportunity.  Madam  Armond  was  not  at  the  ball,  how 
ever,  as  I  had  gone  in  company  with  some  friends,  and  the 
night  we  went  to  the  opera,  when  I  lost  my  bracelet,  there 
was  no  opportunity  of  speaking  to  her  on  the  subject  of 
Henrique's  interview  with  me  ;  but  on  that  Friday  after 
noon  we  all  remember  so  well,  I  had  the  stiletto  in  my 
pocket,  intending  to  give  it  into  my  aunt's  keeping,  until 
it  could  be  returned  to  the  owner.  You  know  the  result, 
and  how,  when  that  wicked,  unscrupulous  man,  who  kept 


WHERE   OLIVIA  LACY  FOUND   THE  STILETTO.        221 

me  stupefied  with  chloroform  during  the  ride,  and  after 
telling  me  in  that  dismal  room  I  must  and  should  be  his 
wife,  strove  to  throw  his  arms  around  me, — in  desperate 
terror,  I  thought  of  the  stiletto — his  stiletto,  then  in  my 
pocket,  and  drawing  it  out  adroitly  and  suddenly,  as  he 
approached  near  enough,  I  stabbed  him  in  the  face,  thus 
causing  him  to  retreat  in  a  fury  of  pain — when  you  came 
to  my  rescue.  Had  you  failed  to  find  us — had  he  dared  to 
touch  me  again — if  unable  to  wound  Henrique  more 
fatally,  the  stiletto  should  have  been  buried  in  my  own 
bosom." 

It  was,  indeed,  the  most  singular  part  of  her  story,  that 
the  weapon  of  this  wicked  man,  almost  a  bauble  in  beauty 
and  size,  dropped  in  his  hasty  flight  from  Olivia's  presence 
at  a  ball,  for  fear  of  detection  and  exposure,  should  thus 
be  turned  against  him  by  her,  in  that  trying  moment  when, 
apparently,  she  was  so  entirely  in  his  power,  knowing  of 
none  near  upon  whom  she  could  call,  save  God,  for  mercy 
and  protection. 

It  is  often  thus.  His  Almighty  wing  overshadows  us  in 
the  dark  hours,  and  oftentimes,  events  attributed  by  short 
sighted,  thoughtless  mortals  to  chance,  unto  trusting  and 
believing  hearts  wear  the  halo  of  an  answered  prayer ! 


r 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

MB.    CLIFFORD'S    REWARD. 

"  In  that  stillness 

Which  most  becomes  a  woman  calm  and  holy, 
Thou  sittest  by  the  fireside  of  my  heart, 
Feeding  its  flame."  LONGFELLOW. 

"  OH,  Mr.  Clifford,  how  can  I  ever  repay  you  ?" 

Lenox  remembered  those  words,  and  a  few  weeks  after 
wards,  when  they  knew  each  other  very  well  and  had  been 
much  together,  he  reminded  Olivia  of  them,  and  in  a 
whisper  told  how  the  debt  she  estimated  so  highly  might 
be  canceled. 

And  it  was  so,  even  as  he  wished. 

For  Madam  Armond  favored  his  wooing,  and  her  influ 
ence  must  insure  the  consent  of  Olivia's  grandfather,  old 
Mr.  Lacy,  who  resided  in  Cuba,  and  was  a  planter  of  great 
wealth,  to  be  divided  between  his  only  surviving  daughter, 
Madam  Armond,  and  the  orphan  child  of  his  only  son, 
who  at  the  age  of  fifteen  he  had  taken  to  Paris,  that  her 
education  might  be  completed  and  perfected,  while  at  the 
same  time  she  could  receive  a  mother's  care  and  love  from 
her  aunt  at  the  period  of  life  when  a  girl  stands  most  in 


MR.  CLIFFORD'S  REWARD.  223 

need  of  such  fostering  tenderness.  Mr.  Clifford  had  been 
made  quite  independent  since  his  father's  death  by  a  legacy 
from  the  uncle  for  whom  he  was  named,  and  hence  felt  no 
shrinking  pride  in  asking  the  hand  of  an  heiress — which, 
had  he  been  really  poor,  that  sensitive  nature  of  his  would 
have  chafed  under,  and  which  must  have  done  battle  fiercely 
with,  ere  it  yielded  to  his  great  love.  Indeed,  with  my 
knowledge  of  Mr.  Clifford's  character,  I  believe  had  he 
not  felt  independent  of  Olivia  Lacy's  expected  fortune,  she 
would  never  have  been  his  wife. 

Upon  this  part  of  the  story  he  did  not  dwell ;  perhaps 
because  his  heart  was  now  filled  with  another  love,  and  all 
refined,  sensitive  natures  shrink  from  reviving  memories 
calculated  to  bring  into  comparison  a  dead  with  a  living 
passion ;  for  even  though  it  may  have  been  as  fervent  and 
as  perfect,  yet,  as  time  steals  on,  memory  flings  a  misty 
shade  over  that  starry  lamp,  which  at  first  a  yearning  affec 
tion  keeps  lit  and  trimmed  in  its  ceaseless  vigil  by  the 
grave  of  our  buried  hopes,  until  at  last  the  heart,  grown 
cold  mid  dreary  dreamings  o'er  the  past,  weary  with  linger 
ing  in  the  shadow  of  a  great  gloom,  seeks  real  joy  amid 
the  present;  and  then,  flooded  with  a  new  delight,  rejoicing 
in  a  new  love,  we  shrink  from  turning  back  to  liken  it  with 
the  old,  which  must  seem  pale  and  dim  by  such  comparison, 
as  the  dust  of  withered  flowers  blown  over  the  roses  of 
Spring  I 

Lenox  Clifford  and  Olivia  Lacy  were  married  with  the 


224  WOODBURN. 

full  consent  and  blessing  of  all  those  who  loved  them,  and 
after  a  brief  visit  to  his  mother  in  England,  they  left  for 
Cuba,  as  one  of  Mr.  Lacy's  conditions  in  consenting  to 
their  union  was  that  during  his  life  their  home  should  be 
with  him.  The  course  of  their  love  ran  on  with  unwonted 
smoothness,  and  a  fairer  home  than  the  one  to  which  they 
were  welcomed,  surrounded  as  it  was  by  all  the  beauties 
and  luxuries  of  a  tropical  clime,  cannot  be  imagined ; 
while  old  Mr.  Lacy  (unlike  the  many  wealthy  sires  or 
grandsires  who  take  a  selfish,  fretful  pleasure  in  thwarting 
and  annoying  the  young  'people  whose  misfortune  it  may  be 
to  form  a  part  of  their  household)  was  a  father  not  only  in 
word,  but  in  spirit  and  deed,  to  those  who  had  come  for  his 
happiness  and  gratification  as  well  as  their  own. 

In  somewhat  less  than  a  year  after  their  marriage,  a 
beautiful  little  daughter  was  born,  and  for  a  short  time  the 
young  parents  were  supremely  blest  in  the  absorbing 
pleasure  of  this  newly  found  happiness,  which  served  to 
fill  their  cup  of  joy  almost  to  overflowing. 

"But  pleasures  are  like  popples  spread, 
You  seize  the  flower — its  bloom  is  shed ; 
Or,  like  the  snow  falls  in  the  river, 
A  moment  white — then  melts  forever; 
Or,  like  the  borealis  race, 
That  flit  ere  yon  can  point  their  place  ; 
Or,  likft  the  rainbow's  lovely  form, 
Evanishing  amid  the  storm." 

For  Olivia  Clifford  was  suddenly  seized  with  that  deadly 
fever  which  has  left  so  many  infants  motherless,  and  in  a 


MB.  CLIFFORD'S  REWARD.  225 

few  days — spite  of  all  that  fond  affection,  tender  care  and 
medical  skill  could  accomplish — the  death  angel  entered 
their  home  of  love  and  beauty,  and  passing  hence,  bore 
away  the  treasure  whose  loss  left  it  darkly  desolate. 

Mr.  Clifford  did  not  dwell,  long  either  on  this  dreary 
season  of  bitter  woe.  So  sacred  and  so  long  hidden,  no 
wonder  he  hurried  on  with  his  story. 

Human  hearts  are  tough,  and  can  bear  heavy  burdens ; 
they  are  not  so  easily  broken  as  poetasters  and  novelists 
would  have  us  believe  ;  and  moreover,  when  plunged  from 
off  the  rosy,  elysian  steeps  of  happiness  down  into  the 
uttermost  gulfs  of  misery,  bravely  do  they  battle  with  the 
black  and  turbid  waters  of  despair ;  and  though  ofttimes 
sorely  wounded,  still  live  on.  Lenox  Clifford  could  not 
remain  in  Cuba,  where  everything  served  to  recall  a  beau 
tiful  past,  now  hopelessly  lamented;  so  committing  his 
infant  daughter — whose  tender  age  rendered  it  both  diffi 
cult  and  dangerous  to  remove  her — to  the  care  of  Mr. 
Lacy  and  a  faithful  nurse,  he  left  for  New  York,  deter 
mined  to  try  and  dissipate  his  gloom  amid  the  cares  of 
business;  and  then  (should  he  chance  to  reside  there),  in 
a  year  or  two  he  might  return  and  take  the  little  Olivia  to 
his  northern  home. 

The  child  grew  in  strength  and  beauty,  the  delight  of 
her  old  grandfather's  eyes  and  heart,  who  wrote  frequent 
accounts  of  her  marvelous  loveliness  to  the  absent  father. 

A  man  loves  his  young  child,  as  a  part  of  the  mother, 
10* 


226  WOODBURN. 

when  lie  sees  it  pure  and  innocent  upon  her  bosom ;  but 
should  the  mother  die,  the  charm  of  that  babe's  existance 
for  the  time  to  him  is  broken — as  he  cannot  fail  (in  a  meas 
ure  at  least)  to  regard  it  as  the  cause  of  his  mighty  grief, 
the  loss  of  his  heart's  idol !  But  when  time  has  softened 
this  sorrow, — when  (if  absent  as  Mr.  Clifford  was)  he  hears 
of  his  infant's  beauty,  that  its  baby  lips  have  learned  to 
lisp  "papa,"  how  the  great,  strong  man  yearns  towards  his 
little  one, — yearns  to  hold  it  to  his  heart,  and  feel  the  soft, 
fresh  cheek  pressed  close  against  his  own.  And  thus  it 
was,  after  two  years,  Lenox  Clifford  longed  for  his  little 
Olivia,  and  was  on  the  point  of  going  to  Cuba  for  the  pur- 
post  of  bringing  her  back  with  him,  when  detained  by 
pressing  and  unexpected  business. 

Finding  it  might  be  impossible  to  leave  New  York  for 
several  months,  having  some  friends  in  the  island,  who 
would  shortly  return,  and  to  whose  care  he  felt  quite  sure 
the  little  girl,  with  her  devoted  nurse,  might  be  trusted, 
he  wrote  Mr.  Lacy,  stating  the  cause  of  his  detention,  and 
begging  he  would  send  the  chikLwith  those  friends,  promis 
ing  at  the  same  time,  so  soon  as  his  business  affairs  were 
satisfactorily  arranged,  to  take  her  back  to  Cuba  for  the 
winter.  The  letter  was  received,  and  the  child  was  sent. 
But  alas !  for  the  eager  expectation  of  that  young  father ! 
While  his  heart  was  still  smarting  under  the  keen  blow, 
which  had  left  it  so  lonely  when  that  new  longing  to  see 
Olivia's  child  had  so  lately  sprung  up  within  his  heart, 


MB.  CLIFFORD'S  REWARD.  227 

like  the  first  sweet  violet  of  hope  from  the  grave  of  a 
buried  love, — the  half  healed  heart  was  made  to  bleed 
afresh,— the  frail  bloom  of  reviving  hope  was  withered,  for 
Vhomme  propose  et  Dieu  dispose,  and  that  ill-fated  ship 
in  which  little  Olivia  and  her  nurse  had  sailed  with  Mr. 
Clifford's  friends,  was  wrecked  in  a  frightful  storm,  just 
before  day,  on  a  reef  of  rocks,  near  the  Everglades  of 
Florida.  Vainly  did  the  anxious  father  watch  for  its  com 
ing,  and  unwilling  to  believe  the  terrible  tidings  (brought 
by  the  next  vessel)  that  the  "Southern  Wave"  was 
wrecked  and  all  her  passengers  lost,  Lenox  Clifford  still 
clung  to  the  hope  that  some  might  possibly  be  saved,  and 
among  them  his  child,  until  at  last,  part  of  the  crew  from 
that  doomed  ship  reached  New  York,  having  escaped  in  a 
life-boat,  and  from  them  he  heard  the  fearful,  final  tidings 
that  every  one  of  the  passengers,  old  and  young,  had 
perished ;  indeed,  one  of  those  rough  old  tars,  wiped  away 
a  tear,  as  he  quenched  the  last  ray  of  hope  in  Lenox  Clif 
ford's  bosom,  by  relating  how  he  had  vainly  endeavored  to 

« 

save  the  French  nurse  and  her  beautiful  little  charge, 
when  the  woman's  frantic  cries  for  help,  as  the  ship  was 
going  down,  attracted  his  attention,  and  he  saw  her  with 
the  child  lashed  to  part  of  a  broken  mast,  striving  to  keep 
it  above  water. 

Shouting  for  her  to  "  hold  on,"  he  quickly  seized  the 
wreck  again,  and  was  about  springing  forward  to  her  as 
sistance  when  there  came  another  crash,  as  of  breaking 


228  WOODBURN. 

timbers,  and  he  saw  both  nurse  and  child  swept  off  together 
by  a  great  wave,  after  which  they  had  scarcely  time  to 
clear  their  boat  away  from  the  wreck  before  the  water 
closed  over  it. 

"What  use  was  there  in  hoping  on,  or  making  further  in 
quiries  after  hearing  so  clear  and  conclusive  an  account  of 
his  child's  fate? 

Mr.  Lacy,  overwhelmed  with  grief  by  this  new  loss, 
could  not  remain  among  scenes  closely  associated  with 
Olivia  and  the  infant  he  had  loved  so  fondly  for  her  sake ; 
and  shortly  afterwards  (selling  out  his  rich  possessions 
near  Havana)  he  went  to  reside  with  his  daughter  Madam 
Armond,  in  Paris. 

After  the  supposed  loss  of  his  child,  Mr.  Clifford,  leav 
ing  this  country,  traveled  for  several  years  over  Europe, 
and  then  in  the  East,  until,  weary  with  wandering,  he  went 
to  rest  with  his  mother  and  sister  in  England. 

While  there,  news  reached  him  of  the  failure  of  certain 
parties  in  New  York,  by  whom  he  lost  largely,  and  upon 
returning  thither  to  try  and  save  the  balance  he  found 
scarcely  enough  left  to  live  upon  comfortably.  After 
struggling  on  for  a  few  more  years,  finding  himself  almost 
poor,  and  longing  for  change,  he  had  suddenly  determined 
to  remove  to  the  southern  states,  when  my  father's  adver 
tisement  for  a  teacher  caught  his  eye  : — and  so  it  was  that 
Lenox  Clifford  came  to  Woodburn. 

The  sequel  to  this  thrilling  narrative  was  my  Uncle 


MB.  CLIFFORD'S  REWARD.  229 

Dunbar's  account  of  how  he  chanced  to  adopt  Pearl,  for 
such  was  still  to  be  her  name,  her  father  insisting  that  hav 
ing  received  it  under  such  very  remarkable  circumstances, 
it  should  not  be  changed,  not  even  for  that  of  her  mother. 

The  fisherman,  McAlpine,  married  a  Scotch  woman,  who 
had  served  in  the  Dunbar  family  for  a  long  time,  and  hence 
retained  always  a  claim  upon  their  kindness,  for  they  were 
attached  to  the  dame.  My  uncle  resided  on  a  plantation 
in  Florida,  when  McAlpine  rescued  Pearl,  who  was  in 
their  humble  cottage  on  the  coast  two  years  before  the  Dun- 
bars  ever  saw  her ;  but  about  that  time  the  old  Scotchman 
and  his  wife  formed  a  sudden  fancy  for  removing  to  New 
Orleans,  and  then  it  was  they  took  "  their  wee  winsome 
leddy,"  as  they  called  her,  out  to  the  Dunbar  plantation, 
with  a  request  that  Miss  Katy  would  have  a  care  for  the 
bairn  until  such  time  as  they  were  settled,  when  the  old 
fisherman  would  come  for  her. 

Right  gladly  did  they  receive  the  lovely  little  stranger, 
to  whom  ere  long  they  became  so  fondly  attached,  that  my 
uncle,  who,  soon  after  the  McAlpines  left,  sold  his  Florida 
property,  and  determined  to  remove  to  Elgin, — on  their 
way  thither,  sought  out  the  fisherman  in  New  Orleans,  and 
begged  permission  to  adopt  the  child,  giving  her  his  name, 
and  treating  her  in  every  respect  as  a  daughter,  even  to 
making  her  fortune  equal  with  Victor's. 

This  was  a  sore  trial,  for  these  humble  people  loved  her 
well ;  but  the  honest,  kind-hearted  Scotchman  hearkened 


230  WOODBURN. 

not  to  the  selfish  love  standing  as  it  were  between  Pearl 
and  a  good  fortune,  and  saying, — 

"  May  the  Lord  Almighty  bless  you,  sir,  for  this  :  it's 
far  better  that  a  gentle  child  be  raised  by  gentle  folks,  and 
she's  a  born  leddy  if  ever  there  was  one.  May  angels 
keep  her." 

McAlpine  gave  up  the  Pearl  a  capricious  fate  had  drifted 
unto  him,  to  those  who  could  afford  a  richer  casket  for  so 
fair  a  treasure , — and  thus  it  was  she  came  at  last  to  be  the 
Pearl  of  Elgin,  and  now  a  double  heiress,  for,  by  old  Mr. 
Lacy's  will,  who,  when  Mr.  Clifford  came  to  Woodburn, 
had  been  dead  several  years,  she  must  inherit  half  his  large 
estate  in  right  of  her  mother — the  will  having  never  been 
altered — as  Madam  Armond's  wish  was  that  Mr.  Clifford 
should  inherit  from  his  daughter ;  and  directly  after  Mr. 
Lacy's  death  she  wrote  him  to  that  effect,  insisting  he 
should  claim  the  fortune  of  his  child,  as  his  by  every  law 
of  right  and  nature ;  but  Mr.  Clifford  very  promptly  and 
positively,  yet  most  gratefully,  declined  to  do  so,  for  he 
was  very  proud,  and  feeling  that  all  such  ties,  at  least  be 
tween  himself  and  the  Lacy's,  were  broken  by  the  loss  of 
his  wife  and  the  little  Olivia,  he  was  unwilling  to  accept, 
what,  to  his  sensitive  nature,  would  have  appeared  a  gift 
of  wealth  from  them. 

Now,  however,  it  was  his  duty  to  inform  Madam  Ar- 
mond  of  his  lost  daughter's  restoration,  of  course  claiming 
for  her  Olivia's  share  of  the  estate ;  and  this  was  done  at 


ME.  CLIFFORD'S  REWARD.  231 

once,  in  a  letter  giving  full  details  of  Pearl's  romantic 
history. 

Mr.  Clifford  assured  the  Dunbars  he  had  no  wish  to  re 
move  their  darling ;  and  even  if  obliged  to  leave  the  neigh 
borhood  for  a  time,  his  daughter's  engagement  to  Cecil 
Clare  would  prevent  his  taking  her  from  the  home  and 
adopted  parents,  so  dear  to  her.  Pearl  had  ever  felt  a  pe 
culiar  reverence  and  love  for  Mr.  Clifford,  which  now  be 
came  so  absorbing  that  she  was  restless  when  separated 
from  him,  and,  after  the  Christmas  tree,  spent  much  of  her 
time  at  Woodburn. 

What  wonder  that  such  a  father  should  be  prized ! 

What  wonder  that  the  finding  of  such  a  Pearl  should 
make  that  father  almost  bovetous  for  a  while  of  his  newly 
found  treasure. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

RELATING  TO  SEVERAL  THINGS. 

"  May  yon  be  happy  In  your  wish,  my  Lord ! 
For  I  profess  you  have  it." — SHAKSPEAKE. 

TIME  wore  on — and  a  year  from  the  time  of  Mr.  Clif 
ford's  arrival  at  Woodburn,  found  him  still  there,  our  be 
loved  teacher  and  friend — prized  more  and  more  highly  as 
we  knew  him  better. 

It  was  beautiful  to  see  the  clinging,  tender  devotion  be 
tween  Pearl  and  her  father,  yet  not  one  iota  of  the  old, 
childish  love  for  the  adopted  parents  of  her  infancy  had 
been  lost,  but  rather  mingling  with  this  new  affection, 
while  no  taint  of  suspicion  or  jealousy  was  ever  stirred  in 
any  one  of  those  trusting  hearts,  their  feelings,  and  sym 
pathies,  blended  harmoniously  as  the  prismatic  colors  in  a 
rare  gem,  all  alike  warm  and  beautiful,  and  each  appearing 
by  contrast  to  enhance  the  brightness  of  the  other.  Madam 
Armond  had  written  most  earnestly  affectionate  letters  to 
Pearl,  urging  her  to  come  and  spend  at  least  a  year  in 
Paris,  but  the  true-hearted  girl  could  not  be  tempted  away 
(even  by  such  an  alluring  invitation")  from  the  man  to 


RELATING  TO  SEVERAL  THINGS.        233 

whom  she  had  pledged  herself,  and  would  only  promise 
that  perhaps,  after  her  marriage,  which  would  not  take 
place  for  at  least  a  year  yet,  that  Mr.  Clare  might  take  her 
abroad,  and  then  they  would  be  most  happy  to  visit  her 
aunt. 

Pearl  was  still  slightly  lame,  but  recovering  rapidly. 

Victor's  late  letters  had  made  us  all  rejoice  over  the 
happy  change  in  his  mood,  for  they  were  quite  cheerful, 
and  particularly  since  his  arrival  at  Florence.  From  this 
latter  place  I  had  received  two,  which,  though  still  ad 
dressed  to  "dear  little  coz,"  were  so  affectionate,  I  stole 
off  by  myself  to  read,  re-read,  and  linger  over  those  beau 
tiful  missives. 

'  Foolish,  dreaming  child !  I  little  knew  then  the  charm 
which  was  stealing  over  his  existence,  brightening  and 
softening  that  haughty,  troubled  heart.  Would  it  had 
been  told  me  then — for  I  was  beginning  to  dream  more 
like  a  woman  and  less  like  a  child  ! 

Wizard  had  become  so  docile,  under  Mr.  Clifford's  gen 
tle  training — which  neither  man  nor  beast  could  resist — 
that  I  was  able  to  ride  him  with  safety,  and  had  obtained 
Victor's  consent  to  keep  possession  of  the  beautiful  favorite 
until  his  master's  return.  Bang,  too,  was  now  my  con 
stant  companion,  Aunt  Kate  having  needed  very  little 
coaxing  before  resigning  him  to  my  care ;  for  with  all  her 
kindness  of  heart  and  warm  impulses,  the  dear  old  maid 
felt  no  particular  emotion  of  delight  at  beholding  a  great 


234  WOODBURN. 

shaggy  dog  scampering  over  her  handsome  parlor  carpets ; 
and  therefore,  I  fancy,  she  was  not  particularly  distressed 
when  Victor's  spaniel,  at  my  earnest  request,  became  one 
of  our  family  at  Woodburn. 

This  constant  association  with  the  pets  of  "my  absent 
cousin  was  not  calculated  to  wean  my  thoughts  from  dwell 
ing  on  the  wanderer — for  little  things  do  serve  to  kindle 
and  feed  a  fire  which,  great  and  glorious  in  its  burning 
beauty,  subsides  over  heaps  of  black  and  bitter  ashes;  while 
the  trembling  vibration  from  a  shepherd's  rustic  pipe  may 
unfix  an  avalanche  whose  headlong  course  is  marked  by 
cold  and  dreary  desolation  ! 

Rachel  Thorn  was  on  a  visit,  just  about  this  time,  to  a 
friend  of  hers — and  a  very  nice  lady,  by-the-by,  who 
knew  only  the  sunny  side  of  Rachel's  nature — residing 
near  the  Glen,  and  we  heard,  through  that  most  incorrigi 
ble  tattler,  Archey,  of  her  being  frequently  at  Dr.  Fos 
ter's,  the  negro  insisting  upon  it  that  they  were  to  be  mar 
ried. 

"  Dars  no  kind  of  a  doubt  'bout  it,  Miss  Amy,"  he  said 
to  me,  "for  de  crazy  creeter's  been  kept  powerful  close 
since  dat  little  white  Oman's  been  about,  and  Gabe  don't 
get  as  many  lickins  (least-ways  in  day  light,  anyhow),  for 
ye  see  dat  savage  doctor's  afeerd  of  skeering  his  sweet 
heart,"  and  Archey  chuckled. 

There  had  never  been  the  slightest  intercourse  between 
Dr.  Foster  and  ourselves,  since  his  refusal  to  come  as  a 


RELATING  TO  SEVERAL  THINGS.        235 

physician  to  Woodburn,  neither  had  we  seen  or  heard  di 
rectly  from  Rachel  Thorn  since  she  left  us.  Dr.  Foster 
still  practised  at  Elgin  and  other  places  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  but  the  fact  of  his  hunting  his  crazy  brother  with  a 
blood-hound  made  him  so  unpopular  as  a  man,  that  per 
sons  generally  had  ceased  inviting  him  to  their  entertain 
ments,  the  house  where  Rachel  Thorn  was  at  present,  being 
among  the  very  few  where  he  was  received  on  a  friendly 
footing. 

Thus  it  was  that  matters  stood,  when  one  morning 
early  in  June,  Mr.  Clifford  received  a  letter  which  agi 
tated  him  unusually,  for  his  cheek  paled  and  his  brow  con 
tracted  while  reading  it ;  yet,  after  a  moment's  reflection 
over  its  contents,  after  folding  it  up  slowly  and  handing  it 
silently  to  my  father,  as  he,  Mr.  Clifford,  rose  and  left  the 
room,  I  fancied  there  was  less  of  sadness  in  his  eyes  than 
usual,  though  tears  had  dimmed  them  as  he  read  the  let 
ter,  and  could  not  help  wondering  what  news  might  be 
therein  contained,  which,  while  it  touched  his  heart,  had 
left  a  serene,  nay,  almost  happy  expression  on  his  coun 
tenance. 

That  evening,  when  returning  from  the  far  end  of  the 
garden,  where  I  had  been  gathering  roses  and  jasmines  for 
the  parlor  vases,  a  startling,  yet  certainly  not  unlovely 
tableau  met  my  astonished  eyes  as  I  emerged  suddenly 
from  a  dark  walk  fronting  the  summer-house — for  there, 
amid  the  drooping  vines,  sat  Mr.  Clifford,  with  his  arm — 


236  ,         WOODBURN. 

but  hold,  I  must  not  tell  tales  on  my  sister — suffice  it  to 
say,  Ethel  was  there,  too,  near  him,  her  beautiful  head  ra 
ther  less  stately  in  its  pose  than  usual,  and  (though  my 
eyes  were  withdrawn  as  quickly  as  possible,  while  I  com 
menced  singing  to  warn  them  of  my  proximity),  it  evinced 
rather  an  inclination  to  droop  towards  the  neighborhood  of 
her  companion's  shoulder — but  maybe  it  was  a  mistake,  an 
optical  delusion — at  all  events  when,  as  I  turned  off  into 
another  walk,  Ethel  called  me  to  her, — upon  joining  them 
I  found  her  queenly,  and  in  a  state  of  superb  repose,  as 
usual,  though  the  delicate  paleness  of  her  complexion  was 
flushed  with  pink,  causing  even  her  brow  and  bosom  to 
glow  like  snow-fields  beneath  the  reflection  of  boreal  splen 
dors,  while  in  her  eyes  shone  the  light  of  a  newly-found 
happiness,  making  its  starry  deeps  more  lustrous  than 
ever. 

And  then  I  heard  why  Mr.  Clifford  had  been  so  much 
agitated  by  the  perusal  of  the  late  English  letter,  for  it 
brought  tidings  of  the  death  of  his  unfortunate  cousin, 
Robert  Clifford,  which  could  not  fail  to  cost  that  feeling, 
generous  heart  a  pang  of  regret;  for,  though  his  course 
had  been  dissipated,  his  life  utterly  unprofitable,  yet  they 
were  companions,  playmates  in  boyhood,  and  Lenox  retained 
too  much  of  the  old  kindly  feeling  to  hear  of  his  cousin's 
death  unmoved  ;  yet,  with  regret  for  the  cause,  there  came 
a  great  rush  of  joyful  emotions.  He  was  now  not  only 
independent  but  wealthy  enough  to  woo  my  sister  without 


RELATING  TO  SEVERAL  THINGS.        237 

doing  violence  to  the  great  pride  of  his  nature,  which  ere 
this  had  prevented  his  seeking  her  hand  in  marriage, 
though  it  was  powerless  to  prevent  the  outpouring  of  a 
love  too  strong  to  be  chained  in  dumb  obedience  to  a  proud 
will ;  for  Ethel  had  known,  since  the  day  of  Rachel's  ban 
ishment,  that  Mr.  Clifford  loved  her.  Fires  cannot  be 
smouldered  when  constantly  fed,  and  lovers  who  meet  daily 
are  not  apt  to  consume  'neath  the  tortures  of  unspoken 
passion. 

The  chain  his  pride  had  forged  was  riven  now,  for  he 
could  offer  the  lady  of  his  love  a  home  as  well  as  a  heart 
worthy  of  her ;  and  so  they  were  to  be  married  soon, 
"  very  soon,"  Mr.  Clifford  said,  as  he  must  go  over  to 
England  ere  long,  and  wanted  of  course  to  take  my  sister 
as  his  bride.  « 

I  felt  bewildered — it  was  so  sudden !  so  unexpected  ! 
Then  the  idea  of  Ethel's  going  far  away  from  us,  of  losing 
her  as  it  were,  overpowered  me  for  the  moment,  and  cling 
ing  to  her  I  sobbed  aloud,  though  partly  for  joy  at  her 
happiness. 

"  Perhaps  father  will  let  you  go  with  us,  little  sis,"  she 
said ;  "  nay,  maybe  go  himself,  and  take  Ralph  to  finish 
his  education  with  you  abroad.  And  then  we  might  travel 
through  Europe,  meet  Victor,  too,  and  who  knows  but  he 
would  return  home  with  you." 

And  she  gave  me  a  sly  pinch  on  the  arm. 

Suggestions  of  so  much  pleasure  proved  a  complete  anti- 


238  WOODBUKN. 

dote  to  my  tears,  now  quickly  dried — and  I  felt  very 
anxious  to  begin  at  once  preparations  for  departure. 

Such  is  the  exuberant  temperament  of  youth,  which, 
alas  !  we  outlive  too  soon — later  in  life  tears  spring  not  so 
readily,  and  when  dried,  oftentimes  leave  traces  upon  the 
heart  bitter  and  burning,  for  the  drops  are  like  lava  then, 
which  in  life's  morning  were  mingled  with  the  sunshine  of 
hope,  and  spanned  our  future  with  an  iris  of  expected  joy  ! 

A  happy  circle  was  assembled  in  the  Woodburn  parlor 
that  evening — for  my  father  had  heard  all,  and  moreover, 
when  Mr.  Clifford  spoke  of  his  newly  acquired  fortune,  he 
was  assured  the  wealth  thus  unfettering  his  pride  did  not 
gain  the  prize  he  sought,  which,  if  sued  for  before,  would  have 
been  as  gladly  granted  to  him  as  now — yet  for  the  sake  of 
one  whose  qualities  of  mind  and  heart  ha  prized  far  beyond 
worldly  wealth,  my  father  rejoiced  with  Mr.  Clifford  in 
the  fortune  which  had  removed  the  only  barrier  between 
him  and  the  realization  of  his  dearest  hopes. 

Ethel's  suggestion  that  we  should  accompany  them  to 
Europe  evidently  pleased  my  father,  who  said,  laughingly  : 

"  He  was  getting  almost  too  old  to  travel  so  far,  yet, 
nevertheless,  would  take  the  matter  into  consideration." 

And  then  we  felt  just  as  confident  of  going  as  if  he  had 
said  "yes"  at  once  ;  for  whenever  that  dear,  kind,  gener 
ous  heart  began  to  deliberate  over  matters  appertaining  to 
his  children  (were  their  preferences  known  to  him)  he  was 
always  sure  to  decide  as  they  wished. 


RELATING  TO  SEVERAL  THINGS.        289 

Therefore  when  my  sister's  wedding-day  was  fixed  for 
the  10th  of  July — six  weeks  from  that  time — Ralph  and 
myself  felt  quite  certain  of  leaving  with  the  bridal  party 
for  England,  this  conviction  throwing  us  into  a  great  state 
of  excitement  and  perfect  flutter  of  anticipated  pleasure, 
as  my  brother  had  for  some  time  been  convinced  of  the 
fact  that  his  existence  was  altogether  too  valuable  to  be 
expended  in  ceaseless  pining  over  the  disappointment  of  a 
boy's  first  love.  It  is  far  better  to  philosophize  than  to 
despond  in  such  cases,  and  young  hearts,  in  spite  of  what 
sentimental  writers  would  have  us  believe,  are  not  so  easily 
broken  as  Sevre  china.  But  a  change — and  such  a  change  ! 
under  existing  circumstances,  filled  the  poor  boy's  heart 
with  delight,  and  no  wonder. 

As  to  me,  I  cannot  express  the  boundless  joy  filling  me 
up  to  overflowing,  while  this  beautiful  future  dawned  upon 
me.  To  be  Ethel's  bridesmaid — to  go  away  with  her  to 
their  grand  new  home  in  England — and  then,  oh  !  crowning 
joy  !  to  travel  through  the  continent  where  Victor  was, 
and  would  surely  join  us ! — it  was  too  much,  and  the  effer 
vescence  of  my  delight  was  as  impossible  to  keep  down  as 
it  is  to  stop  the  frothing  and  sparkling  of  champagne  after 
the  wires  confining  the  cork  are  fairly  cut. 

Mr.  Clifford  had  been  over  to  see  Pearl  directly  after 
receiving  that  important  letter,  for  she  had  such  a  near  and 
dear  claim  upon  him  now,  he  would  not  take  even  the  first 
step  on  the  pathway  to  a  new  life  without  informing  her ; 


240  WOODBUKN. 

and,  though,  of  course,  it  was  a  bitter  trial  for  the  sweet 
girl  so  soon  to  lose  her  newly  found  father,  yet  as  she  had 
decided  her  own  destiny  by  choosing  to  remain  at  Elgin — 
the  affianced  wife  of  Cecil  Clare — what  was  there  left  but 
for  her  to  rejoice  with  that  father  in  his  great  happiness  ? 
and  this  she  did  most  truly.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see 
them  grouped  together  on  that  memorable  evening, — father 
and  daughter,  with  the  radiant  woman,  who  was  soon  to  be 
near  as  she  was  already  dear  to  both,  yes,  to  both,  for  Pearl 
loved  my  sister  too  sincerely  to  be  frightened  by  the  pros 
pect  generally  so  full  of  terror  (to  young  girls  especially) 
of  having  a  stepmother.  So  we  were  all  very,  very 
happy ;  and  as  Pearl  was  to  be  brides-maid  also,  there  fol 
lowed,  of  course,  a  grand  discussion  about  dress,  etc. 

A  wedding  is  always  attended  with  pleasant  excitement, 
especially  to  women-kind,  and  this  one  was  so  peculiarly 
interesting — the  beauty  of  the  bride  elect,  the  unaccount 
able  fate  which  brought  Mr.  Clifford  to  Woodburn,  the 
singular  romance  of  his  finding  in  "  Pearl  Dunbar  "  a  long 
lost  daughter,  together  with  this  recent  inheritance  of 
wealth,  converted  him  into  a  regular  hero ;  and  the  old 

maids  and  gossips  of  N and  its  vicinity  have  never 

entirely  recovered  from  the  unusual  number  of  tea-fights 
happening  about  that  time,  and  where  were  discussed  and 
re-discussed  "  the  wonders  of  Woodburn." 

Ralph  had  a  young  friend,  whose  aunt,  being  a  member 
of  this  "  venom  club,"  he  chanced  to  be  present  on  one  or 


RELATING  TO  SEVERAL  THINGS.        241 

two  of  these  memorable  occasions  for  a  time,  having  gone 
to  escort  the  old  lady  home,  and  through  him  we  heard 
some  amiable  criticisms  emanating  from  the  Tipps  school. 

First  Speaker. — "  Mrs.  Linton's  considered  a  great 
beauty  to  be  sure,  but  I  never  could  see  it,  and  she  is 
certainly  passe  now,  but  then  Mr.  Clifford's  not  particu 
larly  young  either." 

Second  Speaker. — "  Well !  dear  me,  I  only  hope  she'll 
love  him  better  than  she  did  poor  Arthur  ;  he  was  a  bright, 
handsome  fellow." 

Third  Speaker. — "And  I  have  heard  that  all  his  dissi 
pation  was  brought  on  (or  at  all  events  greatly  increased) 
by  her  absurd  vanity  and  fondness  for  admiration." 

First  Speaker  again.— "  It's  a  good  thing  for  poor  Miss 
Clifford  that  she's  going  to  be  married,  for  the  association 
of  such  a  vain,  imperious  step-mother  would  not  do  her 
much  good." 

Second  Speaker  (chiming  in). — " Heigh-ho!  and  old 
Percy,  with  that  mad-cap  son  and  smart  young  daughter 
of  his,  are  going  abroad  -with  the  Cliffords,  I  am  told." 

First  Speaker  (cutting  in  suddenly). — "Yes,  and 
•what  a  conceited  little  thing  that  Amy  is  !  I  would'nt  be 
a  bit  astonished  if  she  were  to  attempt  to  be  literary,  for 
they  say  she  wears  slip-shod  shoes  now  and  wipes  pens  on 
her  hair." 

Third    Speaker  (snappishly). — "Well!    if  she   isn't 

obliged  to  write  or  teach  before  long  for  a  support  I  shall 

11 


242  ^_      WOODBURN. 

be  astonished,  for  they  live  as  if  they  were  worth  a  mint ! 
and  now  going  to  Europe  !  it  would  just  serve  them  right 
to  find  themselves  poor  one  of  these  fine  mornings ;  people 
deserve  no  better  that  spend  money  as  if  their  cellars  were 
gold  mines.  I  do  declare  it's  outrageous  !  " 

The  rank  old  venomites !  they  might  have  bottled  up 
their  spite  for  future  use,  had  they  known  what  was  to 
come,  for  the  "  wonders  of  Woodburn"  were  not  ended. 

Yet  I  fancy  that  stock  of  tea-party  gossip  was  inexhaust 
ible,  and  when  occasion  would  chance  to  call  out  such 
talents,  they  were  doubtless  ever  ready  to  concoct  a  dish  of 
scandal,  like  the  wierd  sisters  boiling  their  cauldron  of 
"  hell  broth."  Poor  old  ladies  !  if  their  tea  was  as  strong 
as  their  strictures  their  nights  must  have  been  somewhat 
wakeful — their  sleep  nervous  and  disturbed. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE    STORM  AND    RACHEL'S  WARNING  LETTER. 

"  Villain,  thou  know'st  no  law  of  God  or  man  ; 
No  heart  so  fierce  but  knows  some  touch  of  pity. — SHAKSPEAEE. 

IT  was  a  sultry,  summer  storm, — the  sun  had  gone  down 
in  a  great  sea  of  lurid  thunder  clouds,  which  seemed  seeth 
ing  with  heat,  as  the  lightning  broke  through  them,  now 
in  broad  luminous  flashes,  and  now  writhing  round  those 
great  dusky  storm  billows  like  monstrous  serpents  of  fire. 

Ethel,  Mr.  Clifford,  Ralph  and  myself  were  spending 
the  day  at  the  parsonage ;  Pearl,  too,  was  there ;  and  now 
the  approaching  rain  must  delay  our  return  until  after 
dark.  The  lovers  were  engrossed  with  each  other ;  Ralph 
was  playing  chess  with  Mrs.  Clare,  and  being  thus  left  to 
amuse  myself,  I  stood  idly  watching  the  glory  of  that  ap 
proaching  tempest,  with  my  forehead  pressed  against  the 
window-pane. 

On  came  the  rain,  dashing,  driving,  pelting,  pouring  in 
torrents  upon  the  roof,  and  driven  in  by  the  wind,  splash 
ing  great  streams  across  the  gallery  floor.  What  a  pleasant 
feeling  of  security  and  comfort  it  gives  one  to  be  snugly 


244  WOODBURN. 

housed,  and  look  out  from  a  cheerful  room  upon  such 
weather,  and  yet  a  tinge  of  sadness  mingles  with  this  feel 
ing,  inclining  us  to  linger  over  past  joys  with  a  dread  that 
such  may  not  return,  rather  than  dwell  upon  present 
happiness ;  and  while  gazing  out  absently  at  the  vagaries 
of  that  summer  storm,  my  mind  reverted  regretfully  to  the 
pleasant  days  gone  by,  when  the  presence  of  one  (now  far 
away)  made  Elgin  and  even  home  brighter  to  me — instead 
of  exulting,  as  it  had  been  of  late,  over  the  present  antici 
pated  delight  of  meeting  him  in  Europe — for  the  one  was  a 
lost  pleasure,  perhaps,  to  be  no  more,  the  other  an  uncer 
tainty  of  the  future,  which  might  never  be — who  can  read 
the  mysteries  of  time  to  come,  save  God  ? 

And  then,  as  the  thought  came  over  me  that  something 
might  yet  occur  to  prevent  our  going  abroad,  and  that  Vic 
tor  might  remain  for  years,  perhaps  marry  there,  I  felt  a 
choking  sensation  in  my  throat,  and  a  great  hot  tear  dropped 
down  on  my  hand.  It  was  brushed  off  hastily,  and  I  strove 
to  think  of  pleasant  things;  for  Mrs.  Clare  had  ordered 
lights,  and  I  was  ashamed,  where  all  were  happy,  to  be 
seen  with  traces  of  tears  upon  my  face.  Sometimes  unac 
countable  fits  of  depression,  vented  in  a  deep  sigh,  or  one 
overflowing  tear,  are  the  harbingers  of  grief  to  come,  pre 
saging  a  stormy  time,  of  which  these  appear  foreshadowing 
clouds. 

There  were  deep  fountains  of  tears  in  my  nature — it  was 
well — I  should  need  them  all. 


THE   STOKM  AND   RACHEL'S   WARNING   LETTER.      245 

More  young  cheeks  would  be  furrowed,  more  young 
heads  gray,  if  the  great  relief  of  weeping  were  denied  to 
some  natures ! 

Oh,  what  a  flash  of  lightning  ! — so  vivid  the  whole  yard 
and  lawn  were  illuminated,  every  object  being  thereby 
made  visible  as  at  noonday ;  and  then  such  a  stunning 
crash  of  thunder,  that,  spite  my  curiosity  to  try  and  catch 
another  glimpse  of  the  cowering  figure  I  had  seen  by  the 
lightning  hurrying  up  the  lawn — for  it  was  a  woman — turn 
ing  hastily  from  the  window,  I  buried  my  face  in  my  hands. 

After  the  frightful  din  of  that  storm-cannon  had  sub 
sided,  there  was  a  death-like  stillness  for  a  moment  through 
out  the  room.  I  have  frequently  observed  such  silence 
-  following  heavy  bursts  of  thunder,  even  in  the  gayest  as 
semblies,  caused  by  a  sudden  manifestation  of  the  mightiness 
of  God's  power,  and  leaving  the  reflection  so  full  of  awe — 
that  one  or  more  might  have  been  laid  low  by  the  fury  of 
that  fiery  bolt. 

"  It  must  have  struck,  and  near  the  house,  too — do  go 
out  and  see  if  it  is  not  one  of  the  large  trees,  Cecil,"  said 
Mrs.  Clare,  as  we  all  looked  up  into  each  other's  faces  after 
that  moment  of  intense  and  solemn  stillness. 

I  followed  him  quickly  out  to  the  gallery,  remembering 
the  woman  I  had  seen  running  up  towards  the  house,  and 
wondering  who  it  could  be. 

The  lightning  had  struck  an  immense  hickory  tree,  mid 
way  between  the  gate  and  front  door,  some  of  the  shivered 


246  WOODBURN. 

splinters  of  which  were  still  burning,  when,  attracted  by 
our  exclamations,  all  the  party  ran  out  to  look  at  it. 

Then,  catching  sight  of  a  dark  object  under  the  shattered 
tree,  I  dashed  down  the  steps  and  out  of  the  yard,  in  spite 
of  the  pouring  rain ;  for  a  horrid  fear  possessed  me  that 
the  person  I  had  seen,  whoever  it  might  be,  had  been 
struck,  perhaps  killed  by  the  lightning.  Ethel  and  Mrs. 
Clare,  being  unaware  of  my  fears,  called  out  to  know  if  I 
were  crazy !  and  bade  me  come  out  of  the  rain  ;  but  on  I 
ran,  heedless  of  their  call,  followed  by  Mr.  Clifford  and  Cecil 
Clare,  who  had  also  observed  that  some  one  was  lying  un 
der  the  tree.  Our  fears  were  not  groundless,  for  there  on 
the  wet  grass,  beside  that  shivered  trunk,  the  top  of  the 
tree  having  split  off  and  fallen  on  the  other  side,  lay  the 
prostrate  form  of  a  woman.  * 

I  immediately  recognized  the  bonnet  and  cloak,  and  ere 
they  had  raised  her  motionless  figure,  I  knew  it  was  Rachel 
Thorn. 

"  Merciful  heaven !  is  she  dead?"  I  exclaimed,  as  my 
eyes  fell  upon  the  white,  rigid  face  of  my  cousin. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Clifford,  "  quite  dead — no  human 
being  could  withstand  the  shaft  that  shivered  this  mighty 
tree." 

"  Poor  Rachel !"  and  I  wept  over  the  stricken  girl  as  if 
I  had  loved  her,  her  faults  for  a  time  forgotten.  I  saw 
only  my  cousin — one  with  whom  I  had  lived  so  many 
years — and  then  what  heart  can  withhold  a  tribute  of  grief 


THE   STORM   AND    RACHEL'S   WARNING   LETTER.     247 

when  thus  brought  face  to  face,  unexpectedly,  with  the 
grim  presence  of  death — sudden,  instantaneous  death. 
They  bore  her  to  the  house,  where  every  remedy  used  on 
similar  occasions  was  resorted  to,  but  all  in  vain — the  vital 
spark  was  quenched  forever. 

Ethel,  shocked  and  overwhelmed  beyond  expression, 
reproached  herself  for  having  felt  unkindly  towards 
Rachel,  though  surely  no  blame  could  be  attached  to  her 
after  the  manner  in  which  our  unfortunate  cousin  had 
acted,  and  my  sister  was  less  vindictive  in  her  feelings — 
even  when  she  knew  herself  wronged — than  almost  any  one 
I  ever  saw.  We  wondered  why  Rachel  should  have  been 
out  in  such  a  storm,  and  still  more  as  to  what  could  have 
been  the  import  of  her  mission  to  the  parsonage  ? 

For  after  quitting  Woodburn  she  had  never  visited  any 
of  our  friends,  and  though  the  lady  she  was  with  lived  only 
about  half  a  mile  from  the  Clares,  Rachel  had  not  been 
there  before.  Her  right  hand  was  in  the  pocket  of  her 
dress,  and  upon  removing  it  we  found  the  fingers  closely 
clasped  around  a  letter,  as  if  she  had  thrust  it  in  there 
cautiously  when  overtaken  by  the  rain,  to  prevent  its  be 
coming  wet. 

I  seized  the  crumpled  paper  hastily,  and  glancing  at  the 
direction,  hoping  it  might  throw  some  light  upon  the  object 
of  that  unaccountable  visit  to  the  parsonage — when  to  my 
astonished  eyes  it  presented  the  following  address  : 

"Mrs.  Linton,  Woodburn." 


248  WOODBURN. 

But  the  contents  startled  us  still  more,  for  it  ran  thus  : 

b; 

COUSIN  ETHEL —  l[J''. 

I  know  you  do  not  like^me,  and  no  wonder,  for  I  would 
have  wronged  you,  urged  on  by  stronger  feelings  than  per 
haps  you  can  imagine  me  as  possessing.  Thank  God  !  my 
evil  designs  failed — for  so  utterly  am  I  appalled  by  the 
aspect  of  wickedness  ten-fold  darker  than  any  of  my 
imagining,  that  even  the  memory  of  my  own  deceit  toward 
you  causes  me  to  turn,  shuddering,  away  from  evil,  and 
long  for  strength  to  walk  in  the  right  path. 

Ethel,  Dr.  Foster  is  your  bitterest,  most  unrelenting 
foe.  He  is  meditating — nay  has  been,  for  longer  than  you 
dream  of — a  plot  to  destroy  your  happiness.  I  have  known 
him  long — yet  only  lately,  and  quite  by  accident,  has  this 
secret,  which  I  would  fain  divulge,  come  into  my  posses 
sion. 

But  when,  in  the  horror  of  discovering  it,  I  threatened 
to  reveal  all  to  you,  that  black-hearted  man  bound  me  by 
the  most  sacred  and  awful  oaths  not  to  betray  him — for  if 
so,  he  would  kill  me  were  it  the  last  act  of  his  life,  and  I 
know  Dr.  Foster  well  enough  to  feel  assured  this  was  no 
idle  threat. 

One  thing  I  beg,  which  may  save  you  great  wretched 
ness — defer  your  marriage  for  awhile.  Let  Mr.  Clifford 
go  to  England  now  alone,  and  by  the  time  he  returns,  per- 


THE   STORM   AND    RACHEL'S   WARNING   LETTER.     249 

haps  before,  some  chance  may  reveal  the  secret  I  dare  not 
hint  at  more  clearly. 

You  may  think  this  another  scheme  to  separate  you  from 
Mr.  Clifford  ;  but  so  help  me  God,  I  am  sincere  now,  and 
have  earnestly  prayed  for  strength  to  save  you  from  a  great 
evil  without  perjuring  myself.  The  letter  and  picture  I 
did  place  in  your  portfolio,  thinking  Mr.  Clifford's  first 
impulse  would  be  to  leave  you  forever,  after  such  over 
whelming  proof  that  certain  statements  I  had  made  to  him 
were  correct.  Yet  the  letter  was  no  forgery,  and  the 
falsehood  I  appeared  to  tell  was  no  falsehood,  as  you  may 
know,  alas  !  too  soon.  Do  not  let  uncle  go  to  Dr.  Foster 
about  this  letter,  I  implore  you,  cousin  Ethel,  and  do  not 
by  a  personal  interview  try  to  wring  this  secret  from  me — 
for  were  you  to  succeed,  no  time  or  distance  could  ever 
serve  to  hide  me  from  his  vengeance. 

I  am  going  North  next  week  with  Mrs.  Davis,  as  gover 
ness  for  her  children,  and  being  miserable  both  in  memory 
of  the  wrong  I  might  have  committed  and  from  the  bitter 
burden  of  this  fearful  secret,  I  could  not  go  without  asking 
your  forgiveness,  and  that  of  all  at  Woodburn,  hinting  thus 
dimly  at  the  truth  I  dare  not  tell. 

May  God  bless  my  efforts  to  atone  thus  meagrely  for 
evil,  and  save  you  from  the  vengeance  of  an  unrelenting 
foe,  prays  your 

COUSIN  RACHEL. 

P.  S. — I  shall  run  over  this  evening  and  ask  Mrs.  Clare 

11* 


250  WOODBURN. 

to  deliver  my  letter  to  you,  dreading  to  send,  lest  Dr. 
Foster  might  in  some  way  manage  to  foil  me  and  get  pos 
session  of  it,  for  he  watches  me  continually,  and  is  crafty 
beyond  belief.  Pray  for  me,  Ethel,  for  you  are  pure  and 
good.  Farewell !  be  warned,  and  follow  my  advice. 

K.  T. 

Poor  Rachel !  what  could  she  mean  ?  Had  she  gone 
suddenly  crazy  ?  How  vainly  both  my  sister  and  myself 
tried  to  solve  the  mystery  as  we  read,  and  re-read,  that 
enigmatical  letter,  while  the  strange  being  who  had  traced 
those  lines  a  few  short  hours  ago,  lay  cold  and  dead  before 
us. 

What  should  we  do  ?  Ethel  felt  bound,  of  course,  to 
show  it  to  Mr.  Clifford,  for  surely  they  were  equally  in 
terested  in  fathoming  its  deep  meaning.  But  defer  their 
marriage  !  Suffer  him  to  go  away  without  her !  How 
could  she  do  this,  even  should  Mr.  Clifford  consent  ?  which 
was  most  improbable.  And  how  could  Dr.  Foster  do 
them  any  possible  harm  ?  Surely  Rachel's  evident  dread 
of  that  fierce  man  must  have  caused  her  to  overrate  his 
power.  Thus  it  was  we  reasoned  together,  having  taken 
advantage  of  Mrs.  Clare's  temporary  absence  from  the 
room  to  peruse  this  warning  letter,  at  last  concluding  to 
say  nothing  about  it,  even  to  Mr.  Clifford,  until  the  fol 
lowing  day,  save  that  it  was  a  few  lines  of  penitent  farewell 
from  Rachel  which  she  had  intended  asking  Mrs.  Clare  to 


THE   STORM  AND   RACHEL'S  WARNING   LETTER.     251 

deliver  to  my  sister.  Mrs.  Davis,  who  was  really  attached 
to  Rachel — as  my  father  had  been — having  seen  only  the 
brighter  side  of  her  character,  was  truly  grieved  at  this 
most  awful  event,  and  from  her  that  very  night  we  heard 
some  few  interesting  particulars  regarding  our  poor  cousin, 
who  it  appears  had  been  very  low  spirited  for  a  fortnight 
past,  at  the  same  time  taking  a  curious  aversion  to  Dr. 
Foster,  which  was  unaccountable  ;  as  for  the  first  week  or 
two  after  Rachel's  arrival  in  the  neighborhood  they  were 
frequently  together — so  much  so,  indeed,  that  Mrs.  Davis 
fancied  they  must  be  lovers ;  but  from  Rachel's  recent 
dislike  to  him,  was  led  to  believe  the  Doctor  had  made 
himself  disagreeable  and  been  discarded. 

The  afternoon  of  that  fatal  day  she  had  been  writing, 
and  coming  down  from  her  chamber  after  sundown,  told 
Mrs.  D.  that  she  would  run  over  to  the  parsonage  with  a 
note,  which  she  wished  Mrs.  Clare  to  deliver,  and  though 
warned  by  her  friend  of  the  coming  storm  as  almost  sure 
to  overtake  her,  the  unhappy  girl  persisted  in  going,  and 
said  she  felt  certain  it  would  not  rain  before  her  return. 

Such  is  fate ! 

And  Rachel  met  hers  in  trying  to  atone  for  past  enmity 
and  bitterness  by  doing  the  woman  she  had  envied,  hated, 
and  sought  to  wrong,  a  kindness. 

Two  days  afterwards,  the  very  sad  funeral  of  Rachel 
Thorn  took  place,  and  we  saw  her  laid  in  the  family  bury- 
ing-ground  at  Woodburn ;  wishing  she  had  lived  to  endear 


252  WOODBURN. 

herself  to  those  who  would  fain  have  loved  her  long  ago, 
and  regretting,  as  we  always  do  so  vainly  over  the  dead, 
no  matter  what  may  have  been  their  faults — that  we  had 
not  judged  her  less  harshly,  and  that  she  had  not  lived  to 
shine  forth  in  the  new  light  breaking  upon  her,  just  before 
it  was  quenched  forever. 

Perhaps  'twas  better  thus.  She  had  prayed  in  peni 
tence  to  be  forgiven,  and  "  there  is  joy  in  heaven  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth."  So  God  called  her  away,  ere  yet 
greater  temptation  might  arise,  and  lead  her  footsteps 
again  wandering  from  the  narrow  pathway  "leading  to 
eternal  life." 

Mr.  Clifford  was  bewildered  and  troubled  by  that  myste 
rious  letter ;  yet  could  not  imagine  a  probability  of  Dr.  Fos 
ter's  enmity  to  Ethel,  emanating  from  the  spite  of  a  discarded 
lover,  being  replete  with  danger,  as  Rachel  represented. 

He  said  the  poor  girl's  fancy  was  evidently  distempered 
by  dread  of  this  man, — from  some  cause  unknown  to  us, — 
she  must  have  overrated  his  ability  to  injure  them ;  and 
feeling  sure  his  watchful  love  could  guard  Ethel  from  Fos 
ter's  wrath3  he  almost  ridiculed  the  idea  of  postponing  their 
marriage. 

Go  to  England  without  her  !  Oh,  it  must  not,  could  not 
be — and  he  earnestly  implored  my  sister  to  dismiss  that 
part  of  the  letter,  at  least,  from  her  thoughts — and  she 
strove  to  obey  him,  though  from  a  dejected,  worried  look 
she  wore  at  times,  we  knew  this  mysterious  communication, 


THE  STORM  AND   RACHEL'S  WARNING  LETTER.      253 

coming,  as  it  were,  from  the  dead,  weighed  upon  her  as  a 
presentiment  of  coming  evil. 

Yet  still  the  wedding  preparations  went  on,  for  the  16th 
of  July  was  now  only  three  weeks  distant. 

Rachel  Thorn's  letter  had  never  been  mentioned  to  my 
father,  save  as  one  of  regrets  for  the  past  and  farewell,  be 
cause  we  feared  the  dark  hints  of  Dr.  Foster's  vengeance 
might  alarm  him  unnecessarily,  or  if  based  on  reality,  he 
would  be  powerless  to  avert  a  danger  to  which  there  was  no 
tangible  clue. 

So  sudden,  fearful,  and  unexpected  a  death  was,  of 
course,  felt  as  a  shock  in  our  little  community — it  is  al 
ways  thus  that  such  events  affect  a  small  and  intimate 
neighborhood ;  and  the  thunder- clouds  of  after  storms 
looked  darker  and  more  full  of  danger  to  those  who  came, 
as  it  were,  under  the  immediate  influence  of  Rachel's 
mournful  fate. 

Days  glided  by,  wedding  dresses  were  made,  wedding 
presents  ordered ;  for  thus  it  is,  and  thus  must  ever  be, 
that  joys  and  sorrows  follow  each  other  over  the  same 
thresholds,  and  when  happiness  appears  almost  within 
our  grasp,  we  turn  not  aside  from  pursuing  it,  though 
the  path  be  chequered  with  darkness,  and  ofttimes  seek  to 
win  and  wear  a  panoply  of  earthly  bliss,  where  even  yet 
the  shadow  of  death  is  lingering. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

THE    KOOM    WITH    PRISON    WINDOWS. 

Upon  that  wild  and  boggard  face 

The  warm  light  left  no  cheerful  trace 
Of  gladness — God's  own  sunshine  there, 

Seemed  lost  in  darkness  and  despair ! 

SHORTLY  after  Rachel's  death,  Ethel  and  myself  hau 
occasion  one  evening — after  spending  the  day  at  Elgin — to 
ride  over  to  the  cottage  of  a  poor  widow — a  protege  of  my 
sisters — formerly  the  wife  of  a  gardener  employed  at 
Woodburn,  where  she  had  lived  with  her  husband  for 
several  years.  Her  humble  home  now  was  on  a  remote 
portion  of  the  Elgin  plantation,  and  just  back  of  the  Glen, 
being  only  divided  from  Dr.  Foster's  garden  fence  by  a 
lane  so  narrow,  that  one  standing  in  the  cottage  porch  or 
door  might  recognize  persons  in  or  about  the  Glen  mansion. 
We  had  never  been  to  see  Mrs.  Slone  until  now,  since  Dr. 
Foster's  arrival  in  the  neighborhood,  and  though  the  poor 
dame  was  quite  sick  and  had  sent  for  us  to  come  and 
minister  to  her  wants — she  dwelt  so  little  upon  her  suffer 
ing — which  always  is  a  particularly  pleasant  subject  for 


THE  EOOM  WITH   PRISON   WINDOWS.  255 

ailing  females  of  the  lower  class  to  expend  their  eloquence 
upon,  and  was  so  inclined  to  gossip  about  the  doings  and 
sayings  over  the  way,  that  I  was  half  tempted  to  believe 
she  wanted  to  see  us  simply  because  she  coveted  the  pleas 
ure  of  initiating  us  into  the  mysteries  of  the  Glen  ! 

"  I  hope  the  neuralgia  in  your  head  is  better,  Mrs.  Slone," 
said  Ethel  as  we  seated  ourselves  near  the  invalid,  who  was 
propped  up  with  pillows  in  a  great  wicker  chair,  near  the 
front  window,  where  her  vigilant  eyes  were  ever  eagerly 
on  the  watch,  no  doubt,  for  new  wonders  on  her  neighbor's 
premises. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  haven't  been  quite  so  poorly  of  late,"  she 
replied,  "  but  I'm  made  most  awful  narvous  of  nights  by 
the  baying  of  that  awful  fierce  brute  across  the  way.  It 
makes  a  body  feel  in  the  night  as  if  there  must  be  a  corpse 
about  to  hear  such  a  dreadful  howling,  and  sometimes  I 
think  that  wicked  doctor  keeps  dead  people  in  his  office 
to  cut  up,  and  I  can't  sleep  for  fearing  that  maybe  he'll  go 
and  dig  up  my  poor  old  man,  who  you  know  is  buried  in 
the  for  corner  of  the  Elgin  bury  ing-ground." 

I  saw  a  beam  of  mirth  and  mischief  in  Ethel's  eye  as 
glancing  at  me  she  answered : 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  that's  the  least  likely,  Mrs.  Slone, 
for  you  know  doctors  only  want  for  subjects  those  who 
have  died  recently,  and  your  husband  (if  I  mistake  not) 
has  been  dead  three  years." 

"Well,  sure  enough   now,  I  never  thought  of  that," 


256  WOODBURN. 

chimed  in  the  sick  woman,  "but  you  know,  mam,  ailing 
folks  will  be  narvous  like,  and  then  there's  such  wicked 
doings  forever  going  on  over  there  that  I've  felt  scared 
like,  and  'specially  of  nights,  ever  since  that  awful  man 
moved  to  the  Glen." 

"  Why  what  harm  do  you  think  Dr.  Foster  can  possibly 
do  to  you,  Mrs.  Slone,"  I  said,  with  a  sly  look  at  my 
sister. 

"  Nobody  can  tell  what  a  wicked  man.  who  has  dealings 
with  the  Evil  One,  may  do  at  any  moment,  miss,"  she  re 
plied  quickly,  "  a  man  that  keeps  his  crazy  brother  shut  up 
on  bread  and  water,  and  then  when  he  gets  out  sometimes 
— for  the  madman's  dreadful  strong — hunts  him  with  that 
horrid  bloodhound  '  Wolf;  '  they  say  the  beast  tears  his 
flesh  too,  when  he  catches  the  poor  suffering  creature  ;  and 
oh !  then,  miss,  Dr.  Foster  beats  Gabe  almost  to  death 
every  time  he  lets  the  crazy  man  out ;  this  I  know,  for  I 
can  hear  the  licks,  and  the  poor  nigger/s  cries  for  mercy, 
both  plain  enough ;  gracious  !  how  glad  I  should  be  if 
Gabe  would  turn  on  his  savage  master  some  day  and  kill 
him ! " 

"  Don't  wish  that,"  said  Ethel,  "  for  then  the  unfortu 
nate  negro  would  be  hung,  and  some  other  roughly  treated 
in  his  place  !  try  and  not  think  so  much  about  these  things, 
it  does  no  good — and  if  your  neighbor  is  so  very  wicked, 
he  will  doubtless  be  punished  in  God's  own  time.  I  hope 
this  medicine  will  be  of  service  to  you,  Mrs.  Slone,  and  the 


THE  ROOM  WITH   PEISON  WINDOWS.  257 

jelly  and  fruit  may  be  a  pleasant  variety  to  your  every  day 
diet.     Come,  Amy,  we  must  be  going." 

I  arose  at  Ethel's  bidding ;  but  the  poor  wOman,  laying 
her  hand  gently  on  my  sister's  arm,  said,  in  a  pleading 
voice  : 

"  Do,  please,  stop  a  few  minutes,  mam,  for  I  must  tell 
you  something  I  accidentally  overheard,  which  makes  me 
think  (from  some  cause  or  other)  that  Foster  is  a  bitter 
enemy  of  yours,  and  means  to  do  you  evil  if  he  can ;  this 
is  why  I  sent  for  you  to  come,  and  have  been  trying  to  get 
a  chance  to  speak  out  about  it  ever  since  you  got  here,  but , 
I'm  slow  and  stupid." 

Ethel  turned  so  white  at  these  words,  I  feared  she  would 
faint,  and  said  (almost  angrily)  to  Mrs.  Slone : 

"  We  don't  care  what  Dr.  Foster  says — and  he  can't 
harm  us — so  please  don't  repeat  his  spiteful  sayings. 
Come  away,,  sis."  But  Ethel  reseated  herself,  and  rebuked 
my  quick  manner  by  saying : 

"Amy,  she  means  kindly,  and  if  what  Dr.  Foster  said 
in  her  hearing  concerns  me,  it  is  surely  right  I  should 
know  it." 

"  Yes,  miss,"  rejoined  the  widow,  "  for  you  know  how 
much  I  think  of  you  all,  and  especially  Miss  Ethel,  who 
has  been  like  an  angel  to  me ;  and  when  I  heard  that  awful 
man  say  what  he  did,  it  made  me  sick  with  fear ;  and  the 
reason  of  my  wishing  to  tell  it,  was  thinking  she  might 
balk  his  wickedness.  You  remember  the  evening  that  poor 


258  WOODBURN. 

young  lady,  your  cousin,  Miss  Thorn,  was  struck  by 
lightning — well,  two  or  three  days  before,  she  came  down 
to  the  Glen — the  fact  is  she  was  there  often,  and  seemed 
so  thick  with  Dr.  Foster,  that  people  said  they  was  en 
gaged  to  be  married,  and  I  could'nt  help  thinking  so  'till 
that  day,  when  he  spoke  so  dreadful  savage  to  her  I  knew 
it  must  be  a  mistake.  I  was  sitting  here  knitting,  when  I 
saw  Miss1  Thorn  and  the  doctor  walking  down  through  the 
garden  to  the  back  gate  just  opposite,  so  as  I  didn't  want 
them  to  see  me,  I  pulled  down  the  white  curtain,  still 
keeping  my  seat  by  the  window ;  and  soon  I  heard  their 
voices  at  the  gate,  where  through  a  break  in  the  curtain  I 
could  see  them  standing  talking  together,  she  on  this  side 
in  the  lane,  and  he  leaning  with  his  arms  on  the  gate  glar 
ing  at  her  like  a  wild-cat  as  he  said,  in  reply  to  some 
remark  of  her's,  which  I  could  not  hear  :  '  Go,  and  tell 
Ethel  Linton  if  you  dare,  Rachel,  it  shall  not  foil  my 
vengeance ;  and  as  for  you  I  will  only  let  you  live  long 
enough  to  regret  having  made  an  effort  to  thwart  me.' 
Then  the  poor  girl  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  weeping 
bitterly,  as  she  exclaimed,  '  Oh  !  God  forgive  me,  but  I 
never  dreamed  of  such  wickedness ;  what  shall  I  do  ? ' 
{A  curse  on  your  hypocritical  penitence,'  said  Foster 
fiercely,  '  you  would  have  sold  your  soul  to  gain  the  love 
of  that  insolent  English  tutor  ;  but  since  the  scheme  you 
laid  to  draw  him  off  from  Ethel  failed,  that  most  pious  soul 
of  yours  must  needs  shudder,  because  I  don't  drop  on  my 


THE   BOOM  WITH   PRISON   WINDOWS.  259 

knees  and  pray  for  blessings  to  rain  down  on  the  woman  I 
hate  for  blasting  my  happiness  ;  but  she  shall  suffer  despite 
your  threat  to  warn  her.  Be  gone  now.  Never  set  your  foot 
here  again,  and  remember  you  are  watched  by  me,  no 
matter  where  you  are,  or  what  you  do.'  Saying  which  he 
turned  back  to  the  house,  and  the  young  lady,  still  weep 
ing,  drew  down  her  veil,  and  walked  slowly  along  the  lane 
towards  Mrs.  Davis's,  where,  if  you  remember,  she  was  then 
staying.  I  don't  know,  dear  lady,  whether  this  bad  man 
has  it  in  his  power  to  harm  you,  yet  still  could  not  rest 
until  I  told  you  of  his  vile  threats,  which  were  overheard 
so  unexpectedly  and  quite  accidentally  I  assure  you/' 

Poor  woman  !  she  might  have  left  the  window  at  once, 
and  thus  avoided  this  accidental  eaves-dropping ;  but  peo 
ple  who  overhear  generally  find  an  excuse  for  so  doing,  and 
perhaps  others  less  ignorant  of  the  proprieties  of  life  than 
Mrs.  Slone,  might,  under  similar  circumstances,  have  re 
mained  behind  the  curtain  and  heard  all,  as  she  had  done ; 
therefore,  we  could  not  blame  her  for  listening,  and  though 
agitated  by  the  conversation  she  repeated,  especially  my 
sister,  who  looked  miserable,  we  thanked  her  for  her  kind  in 
tentions — while,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  kind  of  desperate 
defiance,  I  tried  to  ridicule  the  idea  of  Dr.  Foster's  having 
power  to  injure  Ethel.  "  And  Miss  Thorn's  not  the  only 
woman  that's  been  driven  from  the  Glen,"  continued  the 
loquacious  invalid,  "  for  I've  seen  another,  whose  black 
eyes  blazed  with  fury,  making  her  white  haggard  face  look 


260  WOODBURN. 

awfully  fierce,  when  with  curses — more  bitter  than  those 
heaped  on  your  cousin,  Foster  bade  her  'begone,  and 
trouble  him  no  more.'  They  say  he  was  the  ruin  of  that 
woman  in  his  early  youth,  and  I  doubt  it  not,  for  the  des 
perate  hardness  of  her  look  now  tells  a  tale  of  love,  wrong, 
and  hatred !" 

As  we  were  about  to  get  into  the  carriage,  Archey,  who 
held  the  door,  said,  "Miss  Effle,  Miss  Amy,  dus  you  see 
dat  dar  window  up  in  de  east  end  ob  de  Glen  House,  with 
iron  bars  'crost  it?"  And  while  speaking,  his  eyes  rolled 
up  towards  the  attic  window  indicated.  "  Well,  dat's  de 
prison  wha  Dr.  Foster  keeps  his  crazy  brudder,  and  dar 
him  now,  a  clinchin  and  beatin  de  bars.  Gosh  !  but  I 
pities  Gabe  !" 

Involuntarily  our  eyes  had  turned  with  his ;  and  there, 
sure  enough,  wild  and  ragged,  with  lean  fingers  twisted 
through  the  pitiless  bars,  gazing  vacantly  upon  the  bright 
prospect  without,  while  the  glorious  sunshine  lit  up  his 
haggard  face  with  mocking  splendor,  stood  the  poor  ma 
niac.  But  for  a  moment  we  saw  him  thus,  and  then, 
hurrying  into  the  carriage,  drove  quickly  home.  Heaven 
knows,  we  both  pitied  that  wretched  prisoner,  for  being  in 
the  power  of  so  cruel  and  hard-hearted  a  tyrant  and 
prayed  God  to  have  mercy  upon  him.  Pale  and  silent  we 
were  during  the  ride,  for  though  I  strove  to  dismiss  the 
dread  which  had  settled  on  Ethel's  mind  since  the  receipt 
of  Rachel's  letter,  and  must  now  grow  darker,  my  own 


THE   HOUSE   WITH  PRISON   WINDOWS.  261 

heart  was  scarcely  less  heavy  than  hers  ;  for  the  mystery 
of  that  man's  hate  and  threats  of  vengeance,  made  my  be 
loved  sister's  future,  like  the  path  of  one  lost  amid  quick 
sands,  in  whose  treacherous  depths  he  may  sink  suddenly, 
and  when  feeling  past  all  danger,  helpless  and  over 
whelmed  ! 


CHAPTER     XXVI. 

FOREBODINGS. 

Bich  pearls  and  flashing  jewels  rare, 
And  bridal  flowew,  fresh,  pure  and  fair, 
A  bridal  veil,  soft,  fine  and  white  I 
But  fairer  far  the  lady  bright, 
With  starry  eyes  and  golden  hair, 
I  saw  beneath  the  moonlight  there. 

IT  was  a  strange  picture,  but  so  wondrously  beautiful 
that  I  held  my  breath,  and  paused  involuntarily  midway 
of  my  sister's  apartment,  to  gaze  upon  it.  The  wedding 
dress,  veil,  jewels,  etc.,  had  arrived  that  day,  and  just  be 
fore  dark,  Ethel,  having  tried  them  on,  was  waiting  for  me 
to  come  in  and  see  her.  The  lamps,  though  ordered,  had 
not  yet  been  brought  up,  and  hence  it  happened,  upon 
entering,  I  beheld  the  lovely  tableau  referred  to  above. 

Through  the  open  shutters  a  full  flood  of  summer  moon 
light  was  streaming,  and  there,  close  by  the  window,  per 
fectly  refulgent  beneath  the  warm  splendor  of  that  July 
moon,  stood  my  sister,  toying  with  a  superb  emerald  brace 
let,  in  form  of  a  serpent,  with  opal  eyes  and  diamond  crest 
— in  workmanship  almost  the  counterpart  to  the  one  (be- 


FOKEBODINGS.  263 

longing  now  to  Pearl,)  picked  up  by  Mr.  Clifford  at  the 
opera-house  in  Paris,  and  which  he  had  matched,  as  nearly 
as  possible,  in  New  York,  as  a  wedding  gift  for  Ethel. 

The  moonlight  gave  a  queer,  mystical  gleam  to  the 
green,  glittering  scales  of  that  jeweled  snake,  as  it  quiv 
ered  between  her  delicate  white  fingers,  and  my  fantastic 
dream  of  the  broken  bridge,  where  Mr.  Clifford  crossed 
and  tore  the  wreathing  viper  from  her  bare  white  arm, 
came  up  in  singular  contrast  to  the  fairy  scene  before  me. 
Perhaps  the  very  sad  expression  of  Ethel's  face,  just  as  I 
entered,  may  have  recalled  the  memory  of  that  frightful 
dream — for  she  did  look  almost  despondent,  as  if  the 
shadow  of  a  coming  sorrow  were  hovering  over  her  then, 
and  there  veiled,  yet  not  hid  by  the  beauty  of  that  summer 
night. 

A  moment  thus  I  paused  to  gaze  upon  her,  for  ladies  in 
bridal  array  are  generally  seen  beneath  the  glare  of  artifi 
cial  light ;  and  hence  this  silvery  halo  invested  Ethel  with 
an  almost  superhuman  loveliness.  Then  stealing  up  to  her 
I  whispered : 

"  Oh  !  my  own  dear  sister,  why  do  you  look  so  mourn 
ful  ?  I  know  full  well  you  are  perfectly  happy  in  your 
love,  and  all  things  seem  combining  to  render  your  pros 
pects  fair,  very  fair ;  besides,  you  will  not  even  know  the 
pain  of  leaving  those  you  love  at  home,  for  we  are  going 
with  you.  Then  why  this  sadness  ?  Is  Rachel  Thorn's 
letter  still  weighing  upon  you  ?" 


264  WOODBURN. 

"Yes,  it  is,"  she  replied.  "I  know  not  why,  but  it 
haunts  me  more  and  more  as  the  time  for  our  marriage 
approaches  ;  and  since  putting  on  my  bridal  dress  a  fore 
boding  of  evil  to  come,  from  which  I  shrink,  shuddering, 
appears  settling  upon  me  like  an  unseen  vampire  ;  and 
this  phantom  of  fear  has  been  as  it  were  hovering  over  my 
existence  ever  since  the  reading  of  that  fatal  letter  (the 
truth  of  which  Mrs.  Slone's  story  so  fully  confirmed) ;  and 
now — though  God  knows  how  reluctant  I  should  be  to  have 
it  so — I  almost  wish  our  wedding  had  been  postponed,  and 
that  Lenox  were  going  to  England  alone  !  Yet,  this  would 
have  been  a  great  trial  to  us  both,  and  if  nothing  happens 
to  prevent — and  what  can  prevent  our  marriage  now  save 
death  ? — I  shall  laugh  at  these  fears  as  groundless ;  so  let's 
dismiss  the  subject.  And  now  tell  me  how  you  like  my 
bridal  dress  ?" 

"Perfect,"  I  answered;  "you  look  peerless,  my  own 
sis ;  so  do  try  and  cheer  up  for  Mr.  Clifford's  sake.  Poor 
Rachel !  I  have  not  a  doubt  that  Dr.  Foster  made  her 
believe  he  was  going  to  blow  up  the  whole  bridal  party,  by 
aid  of  some  villanous  gunpowder  plot,  d  la  Guy  Fawkes, 
or  an  infernal  machine,  d  la  diable,  of  home  manufacture." 

Ethel  smiled,  nay  almost  laughed,  at  my  ridiculous  con 
ceit  regarding  Dr.  Foster's  vengeance,  and  then,  after 
reflecting  a  moment,  she  rejoined : 

"  What  could  Rachel  have  meant  by  declaring  the  letter 
she  put  into  my  portfolio  to  be  no  forgery  ?  If  so,  (and 


FOREBODINGS.  265 

we  cannot  doubt  this  earnest  assurance)  Basil  must  have 
given  it  to  her  for  me,  and  perhaps  the  picture  too,  years 
ago,  when  he  was  (or  pretended  to  be)  so  crazily  in  love 
with  me  ;  and  she,  knowing  his  suit  to  be  hopeless,  may 
have  thought  best  not  to  deliver  them — for  Rachel  was 
very  bright  and  discerning — until,  when  striving  to  sepa 
rate  Mr.  Clifford  and  myself,  remembering  they  were  in 
her  possession,  the  poor  girl  determined  to  make  use  of 
both  to  serve  a  purpose ;  and  yet  one  might  suppose, 
according  to  Archey's  story,  that  she  received  the  letter 
and  miniature  from  Dr.  Foster.  Can  he  be  a  friend  of 
Basil  Thorn's  ?  And  Amy,  what  could  have  caused  Rachel 
to  scream  and  act  in  such  a  queer  way  that  morning  at  the 
parsonage,  when  she  went  in  with  the  soap-dish  to  Dr. 
Foster  while  he  was  washing  his  hands  ?  The  whole  affair 
bewilders  me  beyond  expression,  and  one  might  think  our 
unfortunate  cousin  was  at  times  demented,  yet  the  more  I 
reflect  upon  her  letter  the  more  convinced  am  I  that  the 
poor  repentant  girl  must  have  had  strong  motives  for 
writing  as  she  did,  and  some  substantial  foundation  for  the 
warning  she  gave  me." 

Here  I  interrupted  her,  saying  : 

"  I  thought  we  were  to  dismiss  the  subject,  sis  ?  Please 
do,  for  it  is  worse  than  useless  to  speculate  regarding  mat 
ters  so  perfectly  vague.  Come,  let  me  take  off  your  things 
so  we  may  be  ready  for  tea." 

She  turned  away  from  the  window,  and  while  assisting 
12 


266  WOODBURN. 

in  changing  her  dress  I  chatted  gaily  on  other  topics,  until 
Ethel's  mood,  if  not  cheerful,  was  at  least  less  desponding 
when  we  joined  the  family  circle  at  tea  time. 

Kalph  and  myself,  in  talking  over  Archey's  stories 
about  Rachel  Thorn  and  Dr.  Foster,  had  come  to  the  con 
clusion,  long  ago,  that  a  negro's  distempered  fancies  regard 
ing  the  woman  he  hated,  and  the  man  he  feared  so  exces 
sively,  were  scarcely  worth  speculating  upon.  Ralph  said 
he  believed,  firmly,  that  Archey  thought  Dr.  Foster  had 
sold  his  soul  to  the  evil  one,  and  having  entered  with  Rachel 
into  some  diabolical  league,  this  renowned  tattler  would  not 
have  been  astonished  at  any  moment  to  see  one,  or  both  of 
them,  disappear  in  a  cloud  of  brimstone  and  fire !  We 
laughed  heartily  over  this  exaggerated  idea,  but  after 
events  proved  that  the  negro  did  not  overestimate  the  Doc 
tor's  capacity  for  wickedness* 

On  the  sixth  of  July — four  days  previous  to  the  wed 
ding — as  Bang  and  myself  were  taking  a  walk  towards  the 
negro  quarters,  where  I  was  going  with  some  nice  things 
for  Mammy — who  had  been  sick — in  passing  down  the 
lane,  I  heard  Archey's  voice  in  loud  discussion  with  some 
one  in  the  barn  lot,  which,  from  his  own  account,  having 
been  the  scene  of  his  espionage  over  Dr.  Foster  and  Rachel 
Thorn,  was  evidently  a  favorite  resort  of  that  notable 
young  African,  and  where  it  appears  on  the  present  occa 
sion  he  chose  to  entertain  his  company — for  (upon  peeping 
through  the  hedge)  I  saw  seated  near  him,  on  an  old  horse- 


FOREBODINGS.  26T 

trough,  a  gigantic  negro,  who,  from  Archey's  description 
of  "  Gabe,"  I  at  once  supposed  to  be  that  identical  person 
age,  and  part  of  their  conversation  (which  I  overheard  in 
passing  very  slowly,  for  my  curiosity  was  on  the  qui  vive 
to  know  why  a  servant  from  the  Glen  should  visit  Wood- 
burn,)  confirmed  this  supposition  into  a  certainty. 

"  What  business  is  it  of  your  ugly  cantankerous  mas 
ter's  when  Miss  Effle's  gwying  to  get  married?  He's  not 
a  gwying  to  be  axed,  I  ken  tell  him  dat,  to  none  of  de 
weddins  or  jollyfyins  in  our  family,  and  you  can  jis  go  and 
tell  him  so  if  you  like ;  but  I  know  you  an't  gwying  to  do 
no  sitch  a  ting,  for  big  as  you  is,  you're  a  darned  sight 
more  afeerd  of  him  den  me,"  and  Archey  chuckled. 

" I  know  it  ain't  nun  of  his  business,"  replied  Gabe; 
"  but  he  told  me  if  I  did'nt  find  out  when  dat  weddin  is  to 
be,  and  when  you'r  folks  is  gwying  away,  dat  he'd  lock  me 
up  in  de  prison  room  wid  dat  crazy  brudder  of  his ;  and 
Archey,  I'd  rader  die  den  be  fastened  up  dar — so,  for  de 
Lord's  sake,  tell  me  if  you  know." 

"  Well,"  responded  Archey,  "I  wouldn't  like  to  see  no 
respectable  nigger  treated  like  dat,  and,  as  he's  not  to  be 
axed  no  how,  why  I  don't  mind  telling  you  ;  de  weddin  is 
to  be  next  Tuesday,  and  de  next  week  follerin  dat,  dey  is 
all  gwying — oh,  ebber  so  far ! — away  ober  de  great  sea,  de 
Lord  knows  whar  ! — may  be  to  de  mountins  ob  de  moon,  I 
believes  dat's  de  name  of  de  place." 

At  which  piece  of  information  I  could  not  help  laugh- 


268  WOODBURN. 

ing,  in  spite  of  the  uncomfortable  feeling  created  by  Dr. 
Foster's  anxiety  to  know  my  sister's  plans,  yet  as  we  had 
heard  that  the  Glen  was  to  be  sold,  and  its  present  master 
intended  removing,  perhaps  his  idea  after  all  was  simply  to 
know  when  we  left,  in  order  to  go  at  the  same  time  and  in 
the  same  direction,  thus  annoying  us  by  his  presence  as 
much  as  possible  ;  at  all  events  I  would  try  to  think  so, 
and  on  no  account  mention  the  subject  to  Ethel. 

Upon  my  return  from  mammy's  house,  Archey  was  sit 
ting  on  the  barn  fence,  who,  so  soon  as  he  saw  me  coming, 
dropped  down  quickly  into  the  lane,  and  with  one  of  his 
shuffling  bows,  said, — 

"  Bless  you,  Miss  Amy,  who  you  tink  been  here,  axin 
all  kinds  ob  questions  bout  our  family-fares,  but  dat  big 
nigger  Gabe,  what  takes  keer  of  de  crazy  creeter,  but  he 
didn't  get  much  off  ob  me,  kase,  I  believes,  miss,  as  how 
his  master's  got  dealins  wid  de  debble — axing  your  pardon, 
miss — and  if  he  chooses  to,  kin  blow  us  up  all  to  bits,  in 
no  time — but  when  de  poor  darkey  said  dat  child  of  Beel 
zebub  would  put  him  in  wid  de  wild  man,  if  he  didn't  find 
out  when  de  weddin  is  to  be,  I  made  no  bones  ob  telling 
him  dat  much,  kase  de  doctor's  not  to  be  axed  no  how, 
so  I  thought  it  wouldn't  matter,  and  hope  I  aint  dun  no 
harm." 

"  Oh,  no,  Archey,  we  certainly  cannot  object  to  the  day 
of  my  sister's  wedding  being  known,  especially  now,  when 
it  is  so  near :  yet  it  is  surely  no  concern  of  Dr.  Foster's, 


.     FOREBODINGS.  269 

who  I  believe  Tvith  you  to  be  a  very  bad  man,  and  if  Gabe 
comes  here  on  any  more  such  errands,  don't  fail  to  let  me 
know  it,  that's  all." 

"Fore  de  Lord,  I  will,  Miss  Amy.  He  knows  I'd 
radder  hab  dat  wicked  doctor,  and  his  crazy  brudder,  and 
dat  big  bully  nigger — doe  I  feels  sorry  for  Gabe,  I  does — 
roasted  alive  on  de  debbil's  own  red-hot  spit,  den  have  one 
hair  of  yours,  or  'your  sister's  blessed  heads  hurt,  or  any 
ob  de  rest  of  our  family — I  would,  in  fac,  Miss  Amy,"  and 
Archey  bowed  low  as  he  shuffled  off. 

I  walked  away,  laughing  with  a  kind  of  unquiet,  Bis- 
turbed  amusement,  for  Gabe's  mission  troubled  me,  in  spite 
of  all  the  efforts  I  made  by  silent  reasoning  to  convince 
myself  that  it  was  not  worthy  of  a  thought. 

Sitting  down  on  the  front  steps,  after  my  return  to  the 
house,  with  Bang's  great  shaggy  head  upon  my  lap,  I  be 
gan  to  sum  up  the  evidence  thus  far  collected  regarding 
Foster's  proposed  vengeance,  wondering  if  there  existed 
any  real  foundation  for  his  schemes,  and  if  anything  could 
possibly  happen  now  to  prevent  our  going  abroad  ;  and  if 
so,  when  Victor  was  likely  to  return,  for  in  waiting  he 
never  alluded  to  coming  home.  The  dog  was  looking  wist 
fully  in  my  face  with  his  large  soft  eyes  as  I  whispered, 
"Where's  Vic,  Bang?"  He  wagged  his  tail,  seeming  al 
most  to  understand  me.  I  took  a  mournful  pleasure  in 
talking  to  this  intelligent,  faithful  creature  about  his  ab 
sent  master,  and  particularly  so  as  I  shrank  from  mention- 

13 


270  WOODBURN. 

ing  Victor's  name  thus  tenderly  to  any  one,  even  to  Ethel, 
who,  in  everything  else,  possessed  my  unbounded  confi 
dence. 

"  We  miss  him,  don't  we,  Bang  ?"  and  again  there  was 
a  low  whine,  as  of  assent,  while  the  great  bushy  tail 
wagged  approvingly.  A  sudden  sensation  of  sadness  then 
overcame  me,  as  on  that  evening  when  I  watched  the  thun 
der-storm,  whose  voice  had  come  as  a  trumpet  of  doom  to 
poor  Rachel  Thorn — bringing  tears  this  time,  so  thick  and 
fast,  that  Bang  snuffed  and  shook  his  head,  as  the  great 
drops  rained  down  upon  his  nose. 

Again  the  shadow  of  a  coming  sorrow  was  upon  me,  as 
it  had  been  then, — the  same  that  hovered  over  Ethel,  when 
she  stood  with  the  summer  moonlight  glorifying,  spiritual 
izing  her  beauty,  idealizing  the  very  dress  and  gems  she 
wore,  until  they  shone  with  a  mystical  splendor  'neath  its 
mellow  beams. 

This  peculiar  presentiment  was  to  me  like  the  deep,  sul 
try  calm  which,  in  hot  climates,  presages  a  tempest,  but 
when  or  how  it  was  to  burst,  we  knew  not — and  still  hoped 
the  cloud  might  pass  away ;  it  was  well,  for  what  would 
we  be  without  hope,  in  a  world  where  shadows  checker 
life's  pathway  with  so  much  darkness  ?  And  where  does 
hope  point  us  for  comfort,  but  to  Heaven  ? 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE     WEDDING. 

'Twas  a  brilliant  assembly  1 
j*    And  in  the  midst  there, 
Where  so  many  were  lovely — 

Surpassingly  fair, 
I  beheld  the  bride,  beaming, 

For  love  glorifies — 
Yet  a  shadow  hung,  veiling 

The  joy  in  her  eyes ! 

THEY  were  married.  I  had  watched  Ethel's  cheek 
flush  and  pale  alternately,  as  the  solemn  words  were  so  im 
pressively  uttered  by  Cecil  Clare,  which  bound  her  forever 
to  the  man  of  her  choice,  the  one  so  truly  and  perfectly 
beloved. 

The  shadow  left  upon  her  by  Rachel  Thorn's  letter  and 
Dame  Slone's  story  had  never  passed  away,  and  once  or 
twice  during  the  ceremony  the  color  died  out  so  entirely 
from  my  sister's  lovely  face,  that  I  thought  she  must 
faint,  but  when  Mr.  Clare  raised  his  hands  solemnly 
and  the  newly-married  pair  bent  their  heads  low  for  the 
benediction,  that  cold,  suppressed  dread  appeared  to  pass, 
and  the  tear  trembling  in  her  eyes,  as  I  whispered,  "God 


272  WOODBURN. 

bless  you.  my  own  darling  sister,"  fell,  when  Pearl  looked 
up  with  her  beaming  smile  into  Ethel's  face,  and  uttered 
softly  but  distinctly,  the  sweet  word  "  mother." 

It  was  the  very  perfection  of  a  wedding ;  no  event  for 
years  had  created  such  a  sensation,  and  not  only  were  the 
elite  of  our  town  and  neighborhood  assembled  at  Woodburn 
that  night,  but  many  friends  from  a  distance ;  for  the  ro 
mantic  circumstances  of  Mr.  Clifford's  history,  particularly 
his  residence  in  our  family  as  a  tutor,  and  the  discovery 
thereby  of  a  long  lost  daughter,  excited? a  wonderful  curi 
osity  in  all  those  who  heard  it,  to  witness  the  denouement 
of  so  remarkable  and  interesting  a  story. 

Pearl  stood  up  with  my  brother,  as  first  bridesmaid,  and 
my  attendant  groomsman  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Clifford's 
from  New  York,  who  had  come  on  for  the  occasion,  and 
•whose  name  was  Clarence  Morton. 

Having  neither  taste  nor  inclination  for  long  descriptions 
of  dresses,  and  how  different  people  looked,  suffice  it  to  say 
that  even  Miss  Tabitha  Tipps  in  her  bitterest,  most  un 
relenting  mood,  could  scarcely  have  found  a  vulnerable 
point  of  attack,  either  in  the  dress,  appearance,  or  deport 
ment  of  the  peerless  bride  and  handsome  groom ;  for 
though  that  worthy  spinster  and  her.  notorious  clique  were 
in  the  habit,  to  be  sure,  of  seeing  and  hearing  things  be 
yond  the  ken  of  less  gifted  individuals,  we  think  their 
inventive  malice  would  have  been  sorely  tried  then  and 
there  to  find  ground  for  ill-natured  remarks,  but  as  none  of 


THE    WEDDING.  273 

the  "venom  club"  were  among  those  wedding  guests, 
scarcely  a  doubt  can  be  entertained  that  they  made  spicy 
hash  of  the  bridal  party  at  one  of  their  cozy  tea-fights  ! 

Lenox  Clifford  wore  the  expressively  happy  and  con 
tented  look  of  one  who  has  gained  a  great  prize,  yet  not 
unmingled  with  a  certain  proud  serenity  of  demeanor  in 
dicating  that  he  fully  appreciated,  and  therefore  was  not 
undeserving  of  such  happiness.  I  have  already  drawn  a 
picture  of  Ethel  in  her  bridal  dress  beneath  the  summer 
moonlight,  and  while  looking  perhaps  less  spirituelle,  she  un 
doubtedly  appeared  more  radiant  in  that  same  array  under 
the  warm  and  rosy  glow  of  wax  candles ;  and  yet,  I  fancied 
that  a  shadow  of  the  shade,  saddening  and  subduing  her 
beauty  then,  still  lingered,  even  after  the  agitation  of  the 
ceremony  was  past ;  however,  brides  are  wont  to  be  pensive, 
and  my  sister's  happiness  was  a  fact  too  well  established 
for  any  one,  save  myself,  or  perhaps  Mr.  Clifford,  to  ob 
serve  this  tint  of  gloom  cast  by  a  dread  of  coming  evil — 
one  single  dash  of  darkness  upon  a  picture  redolent  with 
light.  It  was  on  me  too — in  my  heart  and  brain  a  haunt 
ing  presence — and  spite  of  the  brightness,  mirth,  and 
beauty  of  the  scene  I  felt  a  nervous  undefinable  dread,  con 
nected  with  Rachel's  warning  letter,  Dr.  Foster,  Wolf, 
Gabe,  and  the  madman,  which  would  not  be  banished, 
filling  me  up  "  from  top  to  toe  "  with  direst  apprehension 
that  the  doctor,  or  one  of  his  grim  attendants,  or  perhaps 
poor  Rachel's  ghost,  would  appear  suddenly  in  the  midst  of 


274  WOODBURN. 

that  "  goodly  companie  " — and  once  or  twice,  when  stand 
ing  near  the  window,  I  felt  a  sharp  shudder  of  fear  as 
a  glancing  shadow  across  the  lawn,  or  balcony  made 
me  gaze  out  anxiously  with  a  kind  of  morbid  fascination 
and  expectancy,  for  the  actual  appearance  of  one  or  the 
other,  and  perhaps  all  of  that  dreaded  living  trio,  or  my 
dead  cousin's  shadowy  figure,  with  spectral  finger  held  out 
in  warning  towards  the  Glen.  When  the  human  mind  is 
thus  possessed  with  horrors,  it  is  wonderful  how  keenly 
susceptible  the  imagination  becomes,  and  how  like  an  in 
quisitor  it  summons  us  continually  to  be  tortured  on  a 
rack  of  endless  fears ! 

Once,  as  J  started  quickly  from  the  open  window,  upon 
hearing  some  trivial  noise,  Mr.  Morton  (my  attendant 
groomsman)  laughingly  asked  me, — 

"  If  I  believed  in  ghosts  ?  "  To  which  I  made  the  jest 
ing  rejoinder : — 

"  That  southern  girls,  with  African  nurses,  were  not 
unfrequently  a  little  imbued  with  superstition,  but  never 
having  as  yet  been  favored  by  a  ghostly  visitor,  I  could 
not  exactly  profess  myself  a  believer  in  spiritual  manifesta 
tions  ! 

Saying  which,  I  led  the  way  into  an -illuminated  con 
servatory,  and  began  speaking  of  our  anticipated  visit 
abroad,  asking  if  he  had  ever  been  to  Europe  ? 

"  No,"  but  he  spoke  of  going,  and  might  possibly  join 
our  party,  as  his  father  and  sister  were  now  travel- 


THE   WEDDING.  275 

ing  in  Italy,  and  very  anxious  for  him  to  meet  them 
there. 

"By  the  by,"  said  Mr.  Morton  carelessly,  "I  wonder 
if  the  Mr.  Dunbar,  of  whom  my  sister  Eva  writes  so  en 
thusiastically,  is  any  relation  to  your  Dunbars — I  mean 
the  family  by  whom  Mr.  Clifford's  daughter  was  adopted?  " 

It  is  wonderful  what  control  women  (nay  girls  even, 
with  that  intuitive  tact,  which  is  a  part  of  female  nature, 
dawning  in  them,)  can  put  upon  their  feelings  when,  ever 
so  unexpectedly,  an  accidental  remark  chances  to  touch 
or  even  jar  rudely  a  hidden  chord  of  tenderness ! 

I  felt  my  heart  give  a  great  bound,  followed  by  that 
choking  pain  in  the  throat  and  chest  so  often  caused  by 
strong  emotion,  and  yet  idly  tapping  my  fan  against  the 
slender  trunk  of  a  date  palm,  and  glancing  up  at  its 
feathery  top,  I  replied : — 

"  Quite  likely ;  I  have  a  cousin  traveling  abroad.  Did 
your  sister  happen  to  mention  his  first  name  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  she  did,  and  that  it  commenced  with, — 
hum — let  me  see — well,  really,  I  have  forgotten,"  said  Mr. 
Morton  hesitatingly. 

"was  it  Victor?"  I  asked  quickly,  "and  has  your 
sister  known  him  long  ?  " 

"Ah!  that  is  it,  Victor  Dunbar,  (it  is  queer  I  did  not 
remember  at  once,)  for  they  met  at  Florence,  and  she  has 
mentioned  him  frequently  in  writing  for  three  months.  In 
replying  to  her  last,  I  could  not  help  hinting  at  the  possi- 


276  WOODBURN. 

bility  that  a  certain  young  lady's  heart  of  my  acquaintance 
might  be  in  rather  a  precarious  situation,  and,"  he  laugh- 

• 

ingly  continued,  '"it  is  not  impossible  either  that  Mr. 
Dunbar  may  become  enchanted  with  my  bewitching  little 
sister,  for  though  brothers  are  not  generally  regarded  as 
impartial  judges  of  their  sister's  attractions,  yet,  as  Eva  is 
so  far  away,  I  may  say  without  flattery  that  she  is  both 
beautiful'and  fascinating.  She  is  very  clever  too,  and  has 
most  winning  and  coquettish  ways,  though  not  a  coquette 
I  am  happy  to  say,  for  a  woman  who  plays  with  human 
hearts  for  pastime  could  never  command  from  a  brother  the 
love  and  respect  I  feel  for  Eva.  k 

"  There  now !  Miss  Percy,  you  have  broken  that  beauti 
ful  fan.  I  could  not  help  trembling  for  it,  and  rather 
anticipated  its  fate  some  time  ago.  You  struck  it  too 
roughly  for  such  a  delicate  little  thing,"  and  stooping 
down,  he  picked  up  the  shattered  fragments  of  pearl,  which 
had  fallen  at  the  foot  of  the  palm  tree. 

For,  scarcely  aware  of  my  agitation,  while  Mr.  Morton 
ran  on  gayly  describing  the  fascinations  of  his  sister, 
I  had  struck  the  dainty  carving  of  my  fan  so  fiercely 
against  the  tree  as  to  shiver  it.  I  felt  my  color  rise,  and 
my  rebellious  lip — which  had  a  most  perverse  inclination 
to  curl  up  when  I  was  either  piqued  or  annoyed  at  any 
thing — assumed  a  slightly  scornful  expression,  when,  as  he 
handed  me  the  broken  toy,  after  replying  quickly  : 

"  Ah,  thank  you,  it  is  of  no  consequence,"  I  went  on  to 


THE  WEDDING.  277 

remark,  in  a  much  more  excited  manner  than  the  occasion 
warranted : — 

"My  cousin's  affaires  de  cceur  must  indeed  be  of  slight 
consequence,  and  are  not  apt  to  be  the  cause  of  much  suf 
fering,  if  even  your  fascinating  sister  can  charm  him  now, 
for  he  was  supposed  to  be  in  love  with  another  lady  when 
he  left  America." 

"Ah,  indeed,"  replied  my  companion,  raising  his  eyes 
to  mine  with  an  astonished  look  of  inquiry. 

And  in  a  moment  it  flashed  across  my  mind  that  what  I 
had  said,  taken  in  connection  with  my  very  excited  man 
ner,  was  just  enough  to  convey  the  impression  to  Mr. 
Morton  that  I  might  have  fancied  myself  the  object  of 
Victor's  attachment.  So  with  an  eager  desire  to  undo  this 
impression,  even  at  the  risk  of  betraying  confidence,  I  said 
smilingly,  or  rather  trying  to  smile  (for  my  mood  was  no 
happy  one)  : — 

"  Yes,  but  I  ought  not  to  be  severe  upon  cousin  Vic  for 
recovering,  as  it  was  only  a  boyish  fancy  for  Miss  Clifford. 
You  kno\s  her  romantic  history,  Mr.  Morton,  and  this 
must  be  quite  entre  nous,  for  she  is  now  engaged  to  our 
young  pastor,  Cecil  Clare,"  and  I  mentioned  the  sub 
ject  rather  inadvertently.  "It  is  truly  no  great  wonder 
that  Victor  should  have  loved,  even  from  his  boyhood,  the 
Pearl  of  Elgin ;  yet  time  and  distance  are  often  known  to 
change  the  love  of  young  hearts,  though  it  is  not  always 

so."   ' 

13* 


278  WOODBUKN. 

And  feeling  my  lip  begin  to  quiver  now,  ^instead  of 
curl)  I  changed  the  subject,  after  expressing  the  hope  that 
we  might  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  his  sister  in  Europe, 
and  turned  again  into  the  drawing-room. 

The  guests  had  all  gone.  My  sister's  brilliant  wedding, 
which  for  weeks  past  had  been  the  theme  of  wondering 
conversation  throughout  the  neighborhood,  was  over.  Dr. 
Foster  had  not  yet  appeared  to  carry  out  his  scheme  of 
vengeance,  whatever  it  might  be,  and  the  shadow  lessened 
on  Ethel's  brow  as  the  evening  wore  away  joyously  to  its 
close. 

At  two  o'clock,  beneath  the  waning  moon,  before  the 
open  window  of  my  chamber,  I  sat  gazing  out  upon  the 
lawn,  absently,  drearily — not  with  the  fear  of  seeing  Dr. 
Foster,  or  Gabe  with  his  bloodhound,  or  the  lunatic — they 
were  now  far  enough  from  my  thoughts — and  the  bewilder 
ing  picture  of  beauty,  conjured  up  by  my  imagination  in 
the  person  of  Eva  Morton,  shone  out  a  haunting  and  tor 
menting  presence,  smiling  at  me  through  the  warm  moon 
light,  gliding  amid  the  trees  on  the  lawn,  floating  dreamily 
through  the  very  atmosphere  of  my  room,  like  a  bright, 
persecuting  phantom,  mocking  me  continually. 

Clarence  Morton  had  spoken  jestingly — then  why  was  I 
so  troubled  ? 

Because  Victor  had  never  mentioned  Miss  Morton  either 
in  his  letters  to  me  or  others,  so  far  as  I  knew,  and  my 


THE   WEDDING.  279 

jealous  heart  was  goaded  by  this  silence  regarding  one 
whom  it  now  appeared  he  had  known  for  months. 

The  attractive  feature  of  European  travel,  which  had 
been  so  pleasantly  beguiling  my  fancy  of  late  with  an 
imaginative  panorama  of  beauty  and  delight,  appeared  now 
receding,  paling,  dissolving,  into  a  dim  and  cloudy  obscu 
rity  of  distance  and  gloom ;  for  the  scenes  through  which 
I  had  pictured  myself  as  wandering  with  Victor,  gaining 
new  and  pleasant  ideas  from  his  instructive  and  interesting 
remarks,  dreaming  ever  that  the  glowing  skies  of  Italy 
would  look  warmer  and  brighter,  and  the  glaciers  of  Swit 
zerland  grander,  more  magnificent,  if  we  gazed  at  them 
together,  all  wore  a  different  aspect  since  the  absorbing 
idea  haunted  me  that  Eva  Morton  had  thrown  a  spell  of 
enchantment  over  my  wayward  cousin,  more  potent  even 
than  his  early  love  for  Pearl ;  and  that  in  foreign  lands 
(though  I  was  in  years  almost,  and  feeling  quite,  a  woman) 
he  would  still  pet  and  care  for  me  only  as  "  little  coz." 

Alas !  for  the  silly  child  who  had  dreamed  too  long. 
Alas  !  for  that  painful  waking ! 


CHAPTER    ±XVIII. 
DE.   POSTER'S    "CRAZY   BROTHER!" 

A  sense  of  calm  security  attends 

On  happiness — 

Fear  flies  before  the  beaming  face  of  joy; 
And  then,  when  sudden  shafts  of  sorrow  fall, 
We  sink  beneath  them,  hopeless  and  oppressed, 
As  those  who  in  the  balmy  realms  of  sleep, 
The  grim  gannt  king  of  terrors  sometimes  meet, 
Who,  unrelenting,  wakes  them  but  to  see 
The  lamp  of  life,  beneath  his  icy  breath, 
Flicker — and  then  go  out  I 

THE  time  of  our  departure  had  been  fixed  for  a  fortnight 
after  the  wedding ;  but  as  my  father  proposed  remaining 
abroad  a  year,  and  perhaps  longer,  we  found  the  packing 
and  arrangements  consequent  upon  so  protracted  an  ab 
sence  could  not  be  accomplished  comfortably  in  that  time  ; 
and  hence  the  first  week  in  August  found  us  still  at  Wood- 
burn,  so  far  ready,  however,  that  the  8th  was  fixed  for  our 
departure. 

Lulled  into  a  perfect  sense  of  security  as  the  days  glided 
by  in  undisturbed  happiness,  the  shadow  of  Rachel's  warn 
ing  had  passed  gradually  from  Ethel's  brow,  leaving  it  as 
sunny  as  ever,  and  as  perfectly  the  throne  of  happiness  as 
earthly  brows  appear. 


DR.  FOSTER'S  "  CRAZY  BROTHER."  281 

Mr.  Morton  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  at  Woodburn 
since  the  wedding,  until  his  departure,  and  before  leaving, 
his  mind  appeared  made  up  to  go  abroad  with  us.  I  liked 
him  in  spite  of  the  disagreeable  intelligence  he  had  so  inno 
cently  and  carelessly  imparted  regarding  my  cousin ;  for, 
\vithout  being  positively  handsome,  he  was  attractive,  with 
a  rather  peculiar  disposition,  a  noble,  manly  nature,  and 
not  altogether  unlike  Victor,  especially  in  a  certain  degree 
of  eccentricity.  I  was  too  blue  and  out  of  sorts  just  then, 
to  care  much  about  strangers,  even  as  agreeable  as  Mr. 
Morton  ;  and  perhaps  it  may  have  been  my  perfect  indif 
ference  to  said  individual  which  made  him  perversely 
determine  to  interest  me,  and  if  he  succeeded,  so  far  at 
least  that  I  did  not  dislike  him  when  we  parted,  nay,  might 
even  have  tolerated  his  society  longer  had  it  been  necessary, 
he  at  all  events  gained  a  victory  under  the  circum 
stances.  Yet  when  he  left,  there  was  a  degree  of  relief 
in  not  being  obliged  to  entertain  him  every  day,  and 
consequently  caring  very  little  whether  Mr.  Morton  went 
with  us  to  Europe  or  not,  I  went  on  listlessly  about  my 
packing  and  assisting  Ethel,  but  so  pale,  dispirited  and 
unlike  myself,  that  even  Mr.  Clifford  noticed  it,  my  father 
felt  sure  I  was  sick,  and  my  sister  at  last  one  day  said 
abruptly : — 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Amy?"  Which  ques 
tion  1  evaded  answering,  sincerely,  by  saying, — 


282  WOODBURN. 

"  I  was  not  well,  and  felt  a  wee  bit  blue  at  leaving 
home  and  many  friends  for  such  a  length  of  time." 

How  utterly  insignificant  the  half  imaginative  sorrows, 
which  young  people  almost  nurse  into  being  with  sighs  and 
tears,  appear,  when  brought  into  contrast  with  a  stunning, 
overwhelming  grief,  startling  and  gigantic  in  its  propor 
tions,  whose  unlocked  for  appearance  causes  the  puling, 
sickly,  morbid  diseases  of  our  fancy  to  vanish  before  a  grim 
reality,  as  different  as  those  terrible  tragedies  which  wring 
our  hearts  in  the  great  drama  of  human  life,  from  the 
mimic  horrors  in  theatres,  over  which,  carried  away  by 
imagination,  we  often  weep. 

I  was  out  in  the  front  hall,  packing  a  trunk  of  books  for 
Ethel, — we  were  to  leave  the  next  morning,  and  piles  of 
baggage  cumbered  the  gallery.  Down  on  my  knees,  ab 
sorbed  in  the  work  before  me,  I  was  just  in  the  act  of 
wrapping  a  superb  copy  of  Shakspeare  in  soft  paper, 
when  there  was  a  rush  through  the  front  door,  and 
Archey  appeared  to  my  astonished  eyes,  looking  ashy,  as 
negroes  frequently  do  when  greatly  alarmed — his  eyes 
staring  and  lips  apart,  as  if  attempting  to  speak,  while 
trembling,  evidently  in  speechless  terror.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  boy's  appearance,  and  dropping  the  volume  in 
my  hand,  I  started  quickly  up,  exclaiming, — • 

"  Archey,  what  is  the  matter  ?  Tell  me,  has  anything 
happened  to  my  father ?  Why  don't  you  speak?"  And 
I  shook  him,  in  my  alarm,  roughly  by  the  shoulder. 


DR.  FOSTER'S  "  CRAZY  BROTHER."  283 

"Lord  God  of  massy,  Miss  Amy,  I's  been  trying  to 
speak  and  couldn't — for  who  you  tink  is  cummin  up  de 
road  to  Woodburn3  in  a  carriage,  but  Dr.  Foster's  big  nig 
ger  Gabe  and  de  crazy  creeter — it's  as  true  as  gospel,  for 
I  see'd  um  myself,  and  run  in  (like  de  debble  was  arter 
me)  to  tell  you — fact  is,  I'd  rather  see  him  den  de  wild 
man.  Oh,  Lord,  what  is  dey  cummin  here  for  ?  Bar — 
don't  you  see  de  carriage  jis  drivin  frough  the  front  gate, 
miss  ?" 

And  Archey's  ashy  face  grew  a  shade  paler  as  I  ran  to 
wards  the  front  door,  filled,  as  he  had  been  at  first,  with 
voiceless  horror,  for  no  word  escaped  me  in  reply  to  the 
terrified  negro's  communication. 

My  father  was  out  on  the  plantation,  Mr.  Cl  fford  and 
Kalph  in  town,  Ethel  lying  down  up  stairs ;  and  hence  I 
stood  alone,  waiting  breathlessly  for  a  verification  of  Ar 
chey's  incredible  report  regarding  the  occupants  of  that  ap 
proaching  carriage,  with  a  cold  dread  on  my  heart,  while 
yet  I  strove  to  ridicule  my  own  timidity,  by  asking  men 
tally  the  question,  "  What  can  Gabe  and  the  maniac  have 
to  do  with  us  ?" 

The  nearer  roll  of  wheels  caused  Archey  (emboldened 
by  my  presence)  to  steal  past  me  out  on  to  the  front  gal 
lery,  just  as  the  carriage  drew  up,  and  there,  sure  enough, 
through  the  open  window,  I  beheld  the  huge  head  of  Gabe, 
while  opposite  to  him,  and  gazing  out,  not  with  the  wild 
expression  we  had  seen  upon  his  haggard  face,  in  the 


284  WOODBURN. 

woods,  when  hunted  and  full  of  terror  he  had  suffered  my 
sister  to  hide  him  in  the  hollow  tree — but  with  the  vacant, 
subdued  look  of  an  idiot,  sat  the  maniac.  With  the  des 
peration  of  excessive,  though  vague  and  undefined  fear,  I 
called  out  in  an  excited  tone  to  the  driver, 

"  Who  sent  you  here,  and  what  do  you  want?" 
The  man  lifted  his  hat  respectfully,  saying, 
"I  am  only  a  hack  driver  from   town,  miss,  hired  by 
Dr.  Foster  to  bring  the  crazy  gentleman  and  his  attendant 
over  here  from  the  Gflen,  which  the  doctor  has  sold.     This 
is  all  I  know,  miss,  he  only  said, 

'  "The  crazy  gentleman  will  stay  at  Mr.  Percy's  until 
my  return,"  and  paid  me  for  the  job,  so  I  did  as  he  or 
dered,  but  Gabe  has  a  letter  for  Mr.  Percy. 

Saying  which,  he  jumped  down  and  opened  the  door 
quickly,  as  a  sign  for  the  negro  to  get  out,  who  immedi 
ately  did  so,  and  walking  up  to  me  with  visible  trepidation 
in  his  manner,  and  glancing  anxiously  at  Archey,  held  out 
a  letter  addressed  to  my  father,  whose  absence  obliged  me, 
of  course,  at  once,  under  the  circumstances,  to  open  it, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation. 

So,  snatching  it  hastily  from  the  negro  (scarcely  con 
scious  of  what  I  did),  walking  back  a  few  steps  into  the 
passage,  I  tore  this  mysterious  missive  open,  unaware  at 
the  time,  that  a  note  fell  from  it  on  the  floor ;  and  then, 
turning  with  nervous  restlessness  to  the  front  door — cold 


DE.  FOSTER'S  "CKAZY  BROTHER."  285 

and  shuddering  with  dread  in  that  warm,  southern  summer 
air — my  eyes  ran  rapidly  over  the  following  : 

"  UNCLE  PERCY — 

"  I  take  the  liberty  of  transferring  to  your  care — as 
it  is  well  such  charitable  offices  should  be  divided — a  con 
nection  of  yours,  who  for  years  you  have  supposed  to  be 
dead.  I  thought  so,  too,  when  the  paper  containing  a  no 
tice  of  his  death  was  forwarded  to  you ;  but  he  who  was 
left  for  dead  revived  after  that  heavy  trance,  a  hopeless 
maniac,  of  whom  I  took  charge,  determining  to  use  him  as 
an  instrument  of  vengeance  against  you,  for  driving  me 
into  exile,  and  your  haughty  daughter,  for  spurning  me 
from  her  as  she  did  to  marry  this  same  Arthur  Linton ; 
and  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  her  late  scorn  to 
wards  me,  under  the  assumed  name  of  "  Dr.  Foster,"  was 
not  calculated  to  soften  my  heart  particularly. 

My  vengeance  is  complete !  for  the  existence  of  Arthur 
Linton  renders  Ethel's  late  marriage  with  Mr.  Clifford  un 
lawful,  and  I  wish  her  much  joy  with  her  two  husbands ! 

"If  you  doubt  the  identity  of  this  maniac  with  your 
son-in-law,  his  wife  will  recognize  him,  if  not  by  the  let 
ters,  picture  of  herself,  etc.,  in  his  trunk,  at  least  by  a 
peculiar  mark  tattooed  on  his  right  arm,  which  was  there 
when  they  were  married.  Should  such  proof  be  unsatis 
factory,  write  to  'Bland  &  Co.,  San  Francisco  Cal.'  for  a 
confirmation  of  my  statement  regarding  Arthur  Linton's 


286  WOODBURN. 

almost  fatal  illness,  if  he  was  not  afterwards  placed  in  an 
asylum  by  a  relation,  and  if  that  same  relation  did  not 
subsequently  remove  said  Arthur  from  the  asylum,  and 
take  him  to  the  Southern  states? 

"  You  refused  to  heed  that  last  letter,  warning  you  and 
Ethel  that  there  was  madness  in  the  Linton  family,  in 
fact,  that  his  (Arthur's)  mother  died  insane. 

"  No  wonder  you  failed  to  recognize  me,  as  flesh,  hair- 
dye,  beard,  and  riches,  go  far  towards  disguising  one  who 
left  you  slight,  fair-haired,  closely  shaven,  and  poor  !  I 
am  revenged,  and  now  again  as  completely  though  differ 
ently  disguised,  beyond  your  reach. 

"  BASIL  THORN." 

With  eye-balls  burning  as  if  scalded  by  the  dreadful 
words  I  read — terrified  and  overpowered  by  the  inhuman 
wickedness  of  this  fiendish  plot,  I  stood  like  one  paralyzed, 
staring  vacantly  at  the  carriage,  with  the  letter  still 
clutched  in  my  trembling  hand,  when  Archey,  touching 
me  respectfully  on  the  arm,  whispered : 

"  Miss  Amy,  look  dar,"  and  rolled  his  eyes  up  as  if  to 
some  one  standing  behind  me. 

When  at  the  same  moment,  a  shriek  rang  out  so  start- 
lingly  full  of  heart-rending  concentrated  agony,  I  com 
prehended  instantly  ;that  the  whole  truth  was  known-  to 
Ethel,  though  being  unaware  of  the  note  which  had  slipped 
from  my  father's  letter,  I  was  totally  at  a  loss  as  to  how 


DR.  FOSTER'S  "  CRAZY  BROTHER."  287 

it  had  been  revealed  to  her ;  and  writhing  under  the  tor 
ture  inflicted  upon  that  dear  one,  almost  as  if  the  blow  so 
withering  to  her  happiness  had  fallen  on  my  own  heart, 
though  shocked,  bewildered,  and  feeling  for  a  moment  as 
if  my  feet  were  rooted  to  the  spot,  I  turned  round — elec 
trified  by  my  sister's  piercing  cry — but  too  late  to  save 
her  from  falling  heavily  to  the  floor. 

There  are  moments  when — though  mind  and  senses  are 
overpowered  by  some  fearful  and  unexpected  blow — yet 
where  a  stringent  necessity  compels  us  to  act,  we  appear 
possessed  with  supernatural  strength  to  do  so,  and  thus  it 
was  tearless  and  with  automaton-like  precision,  I  went 
through  the  duties  devolving  upon  me  after  the  never  to 
be  forgotten  horrors  of  this  frightful  scene. 

After  having  Ethel  carried,  in  that  deadly  swoon  by 
Mammy  and  Lucy  to  her  own  chamber,  and  leaving  her  in 
their  care  for  a  few  moments.  I  dispatched  a  messenger  for 
my  father,  and  then  telling  Archey  and  Gabe  to  remove 
the  crazy  gentleman  to  the  library,  where  they  must  re 
main  to  guard  him  for  the  present,  I  dismissed  the  hack- 
man  without  a  word  of  explanation,  for  the'  awful  truth 
must  soon  be  known  to  all,  and  hence  any  effort  at  decep 
tion,  or  even  glossing  the  matter  over  to  this  stranger, 
would  have  proved  unavailing.  After  he  had  left,  I  re 
turned  to  my  sister,  who  (spite  of  unceasing  efforts  to 
arouse  her)  still  remained  cold  and  rigid  in  that  death-like 
swoon. 


288  WOODBURN. 

As  I  passed  through  the  hall  on  my  way  up  stairs,  the 
note,  dropped  from  Basil  Thorn's  letter  to  my  father — 
•which  Ethel,  coming  quietly  down  stairs,  had  picked  up, 
and  (seeing  it  addressed  to  herself)  read,  unobserved  by  me, 
as  I  stood  oppressed  with  wretchedness  in  the  front  door — 
was  again  lying  on  the  floor,  having  fallen  from  her  hand 
when  that  wild  shriek  smote  my  ear — thus  then  it  was  the 
truth  so  appalling  had  been  revealed  to  the  victim  of  an 
unrelenting  hate,  which  knew  no  mercy. 

Intensely  cruel  in  their  sarcastic  malignity,  those  few 
withering  words  were  worthy  of  the  fierce  black  heart  from 
which  they  sprung.  The  note  ran  thus  : 

"ETHEL  LINTON: 

"I  leave  you  a  memento  in  the  person  of  your  first 
love — a  charming  addition,  the  madman,  Arthur  Linton, 
will  make  to  your  cortege  through  Europe — serving  to  re 
mind  you  of  the  vengeance  of  BASIL  THORN." 

My  beautiful,  beloved  sister !  how  wretched  must  be  her 
waking  from  that  state  of  insensibility  !  My  father,  too, 
how  would  he  bear  this  overwhelming  sorrow  hurled  down 
upon  us  so  unexpectedly — a  crushing  avalanche  of  grief? 

And  Mr.  Clifford  !  who  had  strength  and  courage  enough 
to  meet  him  as  the  bearer  of  such  frightful  news. 

My  heart  appeared  to  stand  still  with  wretchedness  and 
dismay,  as  one  after  another  those  torturing  Questions 


DR.  FOSTER'S  "CRAZY  BROTHER."  289 

rushed  through  my  mind,  and  looking  back  since  to  that 
tune  of  helpless  suspense — when  alone,  with  the  servants, 
I  watched  Ethel's  tardj  restoration  to  life— her  conscious 
ness  of  the  reality,  thank  God  !  for  that  fearful  present 
was  gone — overpowered  by  a  sense  of  misery  and  terror 
beyond  description, — I  wonder  and  must  ever  wonder  why 
it  was  I  did  not  either  swoon  too,  or  go  mad. 

13 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

A     DARK     CLOUD. 
•»* 

Oft  the  dizzy  heights  of  pleasure 

Overlook  some  gulf  of  woe, 
Dark  and  wild  ;  yet  who  can  measure 

Deeps  thus  hidden  far  below  ? 

I  CANNOT  bear  to  live  again,  even  in  memory,  the 
wretchedness  of  that  dreary,  hopeless  time,  (for  hopeless 
it  did  appear)  and  the  impress  of  suffering  then  left  upon 
our  hearts — even  those  that  were  young  and  buoyant — has 
never  been  entirely  effaced  by  after  years  of  happiness. 

Though  adorned  by  wreathing  vines  and  flowers,  and 
brightened  by  the  sunlight,  yet  do  scars  left  there  by  burn 
ing  lava  remain  upon  the  mountain  side — and  so  often 
times  does  scathing  and  unexpected  sorrow  leave  scars  upon 
the  human  heart !  My  father,  whose  fine  constitution  and 
cheerful  temperament  had  kept  him  so  free  from  that* 
despondency  and  want  of  interest  in  life  which  not  unfre- 
quently  contributes  towards  making  people  old  before  their 
time,  was  so  crushed  by  this  one  fell  blow,  that  a  few  hours 
effected  the  work  years  had  failed  to  accomplish.  Grief 
could  not  affect  his  hair,  for  it  had  been  white  almost  from 


A   DARK    CLOUD.  291 

his  youth,  or  perhaps  if  those  thick  locks  had  chanced  to 
be  yet  unbleached,  it  would  not  have  planted  so  many,  and 
such  deep  furrows  upon  that  beloved  face. 

And  Mr.  Clifford — it  devolved  upon  me  to  break  the 
frightful  truth  to  him,  for  so  completely  was  my  father 
stricken  down  that  for  many  hours  he  sat  speechless  with 
his  head  bowed  down  upon  his  hands,  silently  motioning 
off  any  one  who  approached  for  the  purpose  of  trying  to 
rouse  him. 

Oh  !  what  a  fearful  plunge  it  was  for  Lenox  Clifford — 
from  the  sunny  heights  of  perfect  human  happiness  into  the 
very  blackest,  deepest  gulf  of  despair !  Language  fails 
even  to  convey  a  faint  idea  of  such  misery,  therefore  will 
I  let  the  dark  cloud  which  then  settled  upon  Woodburn, 
cover  as  a  veil  the  wretchedness  too  sacred  and  too  deep  for 
description. 

Every  effort  was  made  by  my  Uncle  Dunbar  and  other 
kind  friends  to  disprove  that  Arthur  Linton  and  the  maniac 
(heretofore  supposed  to  be  Dr.  Foster's  brother)  were  one 
and  the  same  person,  for  they  still  cherished  a  lingering 
hope  that  Basil  Thorn  invented  this  story  and  used  the 
poor  lunatic  as  an  instrument  for  his  vengeance,  when  in 
reality  Arthur  was  dead  as  we  had  supposed  years  ago. 
But  alas !  every  effort,  far  from  disproving,  went  on  to 
prove  the  certainty  that  this  fiendish  scheme  was  based  on 
a  reality,  and  not  risked  as  a  venture  of  reckless  malice. 
Ethel's  picture  and  letters  were  in  the  trunk — true  it  is, 


292  WOODBURN. 

\" 

they  might  have  been  placed  there ;  the  peculiar  figures 
were  found  tattooed  upon  his  arm — this  might  have  been 
done  to  be  sure  in  imitation  of  those  alluded  to  by  Basil 
Thorn ;  but  when  the  poor  maniac  was  shorn  of  his  long, 
uncombed  hair,  his  matted  beard  shaved  off,  and  genteel 
clothes  substituted  for  the  unsightly  rags  he  wore,  the 
striking  likeness  he  bore  to  a  miniature  of  Arthur  taken 
just  after  my  sister's  marriage,  could  not  be  disputed,  for 
though  gaunt,  haggard  and  changed  in  many  respects,  the 
features  were  there,  though  so  altered  in  expression — and 
then  every  answered  letter  from  California  (and  there  were 
many  written  to  various  parties  there)  went  further  and 
further  to  confirm  the  dreadful  truth  whose  certainty  we 
had  felt,  yet  tried  to  discredit,  from  the  first. 

Every  effort  to  discover  the  hiding  place  of  *Basil  Thorn 
proved  utterly  ineffectual ;  he  had  vanished  like  an  evil 
spirit,  leaving  no  trace,  and  I  was  half  inclined  to  believe 
with  Archey — who  proved  the  only  one  (save  his  unfortu 
nate  sister  Rachel)  fully  appreciating  that  dark  man's 
capacity  for  wickedness — that  he  had  vanished  in  a  sul 
phurous  cloud  after  accomplishing  his  diabolical  purpose. 

Arrangements  were  made  immediately  for  sending  poor 
Arthur  to  a  most  excellent  asylum  in  the  State,  where  we 
were  quite  sure  everything  would  be  done  possible  to  alle- 
.  viate  the  weary  monotony  of  his  negative  existence. 

His  departure  from  Woodburn  was  a  great  relief  to  us 
all,  removing  as  it  were  from  our  midst  the  immediate 


A    DARK    CLOUD.  293 

presence  of  a  reality  terrible  enough  when  contemplated  at 
a  distance. 

Ethel's  deep  swoon  was  succeeded  by  a  brain  fever  so 
severe  that  for  a  month  her  life  trembled  on  such  uncertain 
tenure,  we  feared  even  each  delicate  change  from  sleeping 
to  waking,  or  waking  to  sleeping,  might  put  out  the  vital 
spark.  While  fearing  for  her  life,  however,  we  could 
scarcely  help  feeling  grateful  that  delirium  rendered  her 
oblivious,  for  a  time  at  least,  of  the  blighting  misery  which 
had  fallen  so  heavily  upon  her  heart.  Twice  we  thought 
she  was  passing  away,  and  then  I  felt  it  would  be  better  to 
think  of  my  precious  sister  as  dwelling  among  the  angels 
than  watch  her  waking  to  the  realization  of  a  torturing 
weight  of  agony,  to  be  borne  on  perhaps  through  a  long  and 
dreary  term  of  years. 

God  orders  all  things  in  wisdom,  however,  and  he  willed 
that  in  this  terrible  struggle  between  life  and  death  Ethel's 
fine  constitution  should  gain  the  victory,  and  on  waking 
from  a  long  deep  sleep  (which  was  pronounced  by  her 
physician  as  the  crisis  of  the  disease)  we  knew  at  once  from 
the  expression  of  her  eyes,  that  reason  had  resumed  its 
sway — and  so  perfectly  did  she  remember  the  shock  re 
ceived  from  that  fearful  note  as  Mr.  Clifford  bent  over  her, 
waiting  in  breathless  anxiety  for  her  first  words,  she  whis 
pered  : 

"  It  is  the  will  of  God.  dearest ;  we  must  submit.  We 
did  not  mean  to  do  wrong,  and  perhaps  may  yet  be  blessed. 


294  WOODBURN. 

You  will  go  to  England  without  me,  Lenox.  Oh !  why 
did  I  not  heed  the  warning  of  Rachel's  letter  ?" 

And  then  we  saw  with  thankful  hearts  a  tear  roll  down 
her  wan,  emaciated  cheek,  for  it  came  as  a  harbinger  of 
relief  to  that  tense  and  long  pent-up  sorrow.  My  father 
had,  without  the  least  difficulty,  procured  a  divorce  for 
Ethel  from  Arthur  Linton ;  but  when  she  was  told  of  it, 
and  urged  to  go  through  with  another  marriage  ceremony, 
that  their  union,  in  the  eyes  of  the  law  at  least,  might  be 
valid,  my  sister  gently,  but  firmly,  refused,  saying  she 
could  never  live  with  Mr.  Clifford  as  a  wife  during  the 
life  of  Arthur  Linton,  and  therefore  to  go  through  the 
marriage  form  again  would  only  be  useless  and  unnecessary 
torture.  So  at  her  earnest  request,  Mr.  Clifford  went  to 
England,  leaving  his  mourning  wife — for  we  could  not  help 
feeling  she  was  as  much  so  indeed  as  if  Arthur  had  been 
dead — to  our  care. 

Ralph  went  with  him  to  remain  abroad  for  the  comple 
tion  of  his  education,  and  it  has  ever  been  a  source  of 
pleasure  to  me  that  his  bright  young  spirit  was  saved  the 
misery  of  dwelling  longer  under  the  shadow  of  that  dark 
cloud. 

Mr.  Clifford's  last  words  to  my  father  were — 

"  You  will  write  constantly  of  the  precious  treasure  I 
leave  with  you,  trusting  (even  in  the  midst  of  so  much 
wretchedness)  to  the  mercy  and  goodness  of  God,  and  if 


A    DARK   CLOUD.  295 

there  should  come  a  time  when  you  can  summon  me  to 
return,  do  not  delay." 

"I  -will  not,  Clifford,"  almost  sobbed  my  father  ;  "and 
the  Almighty,  in  whom  we  trust,  grant  the  summons  may 
come  to  you  at  no  very  distant  period." 

Oh  !  the  tedious  misery  of  that  long,  weary,  wretched 
time.  Years,  even  of  ordinary  common-place  comfort  and 
happiness,  would  have  appeared  shorter  than  the  six  months 
of  that  dreary  fall  and  winter,  when  our  darling  Ethel  lay 
stricken  and  pining,  the  very  shadow  of  her  former  self. 
For  after  Lenox  Clifford's  departure,  she  became  so  ill 
again  we  thought  she  must  die,  and  when  I  watched  her, 
so  pure,  so  good,  so  beautiful,  lingering  so  long  (as  it 
were)  on  the  very  threshold  of  the  portals  of  death — yet 
patient  and  uncomplaining  beneath  that  heavy  burden  of 
suffering  and  unhappiness — my  rebellious  heart  dared  to 
murmur  at  the  will  of  heaven,  arguing  against  the  wisdom 
of  that  decree,  which,  in  calling  Rachel  Thorn  away  sum 
marily  and  without  suffering,  had  left  the  innocent  victim 
of  her  perfidy  to  linger  on  in  torture. 

For,  though  Rachel  did  repent,  yet  was  it  too  late  to 
save  Ethel.  Being  then  so  much  under  the  influence  of 
her  wicked  brother  she  feared  to  betray  his  inhuman  malice 
at  first  encouraged  for  the  furtherance  of  her  own  schemes. 
Had  she  at  once  (upon  discovering  in  the  pretended  Dr. 
Foster  her  long  absent  brother)  revealed  the  fact  to  us 
instead  of  leaguing  with  him,  or  even  when  Arthur  Lin- 


296  WOODBURN. 

ton's  existence  was  revealed,  had  she  possessed  courage 
enough  to  come  at  once  and  tell  the  whole  either  to  Ethel 
or  my  father,  she  could,  nay  would,  have  been  protected 
from  Basil's  fury — and  then,  oh  !  what  wretchedness  had 
been  saved  us  all. 

Thus  it  is  ever  we  see  "through  a  glass,  darkly;"  but 
when  that  cloudy  time  had  past,  long  afterwards,  when  I 
knew  retribution  had  overtaken  the  guilty,  and  joy  was 
dawning  once  more  upon  those  who  had  bowed  in  humble 
submission  to  kiss  the  rod  of  affliction,  then  I  too  felt 
humbled,  and,  shuddering  af  those  rebellious  thoughts  of 
long  ago,  sought  forgiveness  for  my  presumptuous  repining. 
Justice  and  mercy  from  above  go  hand  in  hand. — for  "  whom 
the  Lord  loveth  He  chasteneth  "  to  prove  their  trust  in 
Him,  while  those  who  have  sinned,  and  sincerely  repent 
them  of  the  evil — yet  are  not  strong  enough  to  endure 
either  great  suffering  or  temptation — He  calls  away  in 
mercy,  ere  the  glorious  light  of  repentance,  full  and  perfect 
enough  now  to  save  that  trembling  soul,  be  dimmed  or 
quenched  perhaps  by  grief  and  pain — as  it  might  have  been 
with  poor  Rachel  Thorn.  God  doeth  all  things  well  and 
in  wisdom. 

Pearl  was  so  devoted  to  Ethel  that  almost  every  day 
found  her  at  Woodburn,  tending,  with  unceasing  devotion, 
the  pale,  fragile,  angelic  looking  being  whom  she  ever  per 
sisted,  with  refined  tenderness,  in  calling  "  mother." 

All  that  human  love  could  suggest  was  done  to  win  my 


A   DARK   CLOUD.  297 

sister  back  to  live  as  one  of  us  again — and  all  that  tender 
hearts  can  devise  we  resorted  to,  as  gentle  means  of  inter 
esting  her  in  the  every  day  events  of  life  ;  but  alas !  in 
vain.  She  listened  when  we  read  or  sang,  took  the  flowers 
listlessly  we  brought,  and  was  very  grateful ;  for  we  read 
the  affection  and  gratitude  of  Ethel's  heart  in  her  large, 
expressive  eyes,  whose  light  was  deeper  and  more  heavenly 
since  she  had  suffered  so  severely ;  but  never  once,  from  the 
reading  of  Basil's  wicked  note,  and  during  all  that  dreary 
autumn  and  winter,  did  even  the  shadow  of  a  smile  flit 
over  those  pallid  lips,  and  neither  by  word  or  action  did 
she  indicate  the  slightest  interest  in  any  earthly  thing  save 
by  expressions  of  love  for  us,  and  eager  watching  for  Mr. 
Clifford's  letters. 

Aunt  Kate  was  ever  faithful,  and  I  often  saw  the  tears 
roll  down  her  furrowed  cheeks  when  gazing  upon  our 
patient  sufferer,  whose  eyes  which  erst  had  looked  up  to 
the  old  lady  so  full  of  affection  and  mirth,  were  now  so 
veiled  by  sadness  that  not  a  ray  of  their  old  light  shone 
forth. 

One  day  when  I  was  straightening  the  perverse  cap, 
which  through  storm  or  shine,  joy  or  sorrow,  still  retained 
the  same  obstinate  inclination  for  crawling  to  the  back  of 
our  dear  Aunty's  head,  she  actually  sobbed  out — 

"  Oh,  Amy,  how  that  reminds  me  of  the  dear,  winsome 
darling  who  now  lies  there  pale  and  quiet.  She  was  so 


298  WOODBURN. 

fond  of  fixing  my  crooked  cap,  and  joking  me  about  it.  I 
wonder  if  we  shall  ever  see  her  smile  again?" 

Uncle  Dunbar  had  ceased  almost  to  quiz  or  joke,  and 
even  the  presence  of  itinerant  ailing  deacons,  and  bilious 
schoolmasters,  with  their  mush,  gruel  and  black  tea,  at 
Elgin,  failed  to  arouse  his  hospitable  interest  as  formerly; 
and  I  don't  believe  he  pulled  off  his  wig  in  frolic  for 
months. 

Aunt  Kate  had  written  Victor  a  full  account  of  Ethel's 
terrible  trial,  and  his  letters  to  me  afterwards  were  full  of 
affectionate  sympathy  for  us  all — but  never  once  did  he 
mention  the  name  of  Eva  Morton. 

And  so  the  months  wore  drearily  away  at  Elgin  and  at 
Woodburn.  I  saw  the  crisp  leaves  of  autumn  drift  through 
the  open  window  over  Ethel's  couch,  where  she  rested, 
gazing  listlessly  out  on  the  warm,  hazy  splendor  of  an 
Indian  summer  sunset — that  very  same  window  where  she 
had  stood  a  vision  of  beauty  crowned  with  the  July  moon 
light — and  there  again  I  stood  watching  the  cold,  dismal 
rain  and  sleet  of  January  pelting  against  the  glass,  and 
wondering  if  there  was  as  little  of  joy  in  the  darkly  veiled 
future  as  my  gloomy  fancy  pictured  of  sunshine  hidden 
beneath  those  dense  and  leaden  clouds  ? 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

THE     LIGHT     BREAKS. 

He  who  orders  storm  and  tempest, 

Also  sweeps  the  clouds  away, 
And  has  willed  the  deepest  darkness, 

Just  before  the  dawn  of  day ! 

Six  months  had  gone  by  since  Mr.  Clifford  left  Wood- 
burn,  when  one  morning  early  in  March,  while  sorting  out 
the  letters  Archey  had  just  brought  from  town,  I  felt  my 
heart  beat  faster  as  my  eye  fell  upon  one  bearing  the  post 
mark  of  the  town  in  whose  asylum  poor  Arthur  had  been 
placed,  and  where  (though  known  to  be  in  a  hopeless  state 
of  idiotic  imbecility)  everything  that  humanity  could  sug 
gest  was  done  for  his  comfort  and  relief. 

For,  not  trusting  to  those  who  kept  the  asylum,  a 
physician  was  employed  by  my  father  to  see  him  at 
intervals;  and  once  a  month,  faithful  Michael  McAl- 
pine  went  over  to  see  that  he  was  properly  attended 
and  not  allowed  to  suffer  for  bodily  comforts.  There 
fore,  as  Michael  had  but  recently  returned,  this  letter 
startled  me,  and  placing  it  at  once  in  my  father's  hand.  I 
stood  watching  eagerly  while  he  opened  it.  No  sooner  had 


300  WOODBTTRN. 

his  eye  glanced  rapidly  over  the  contents,  than  ejaculating 
fervently— 

"  Thank  God,"  he  handed  me  the  letter,  and  saying — 

"  Poor  Lin  ton  is  gone,  our  suffering  Ethel  may  yet  live 
to  be  happy,"  sat  down  at  his  desk,  and  began  -writing 
hurriedly. 

Then,  with  an  overpowering  sense  of  gratitude  and  peni 
tence  for  my  rebellious  moods,  I  dropped  down  on  my 
knees  beside  the  old  arm-chair  from  which  my  father  had 
just  risen,  and  poured  out  a  heart-fej£  prayer  of  thanks 
giving  to  Him  who  looked  with  pity  upon  beings  so  inno 
cent  in  their  erring — doing  all  that  was  possible  to  atone 
for  the  wrong,  by  childlike  submission  to  his  heavenly  de 
cree — and  now,  with  the  ocean  between  them,  were  wait 
ing  patiently  until  such  time  as  God  should  see  fit  to  re 
move  the  burden  of  this  mighty  sorrow. 

And  now  that  time  had  come  ! 

My  father's  letter  to  Mr.  Clifford — the  glad  missive 
summoning  him  to  return — was  written,  and  on  its  way  to 
the  mail,  when  we  went  up  stairs,  eager  to  break  the  glad 
tidings  to  Ethel,  and  yet  fearing  the  effect,  even  of  such 
pleasurable  excitement,  upon  her  delicate  frame. 

When  we  entered.  Pearl  was  standing  at  the  head  of  my 
sister's  lounge,  passing  the  comb  gently  through  her  long 
bright  hair,  which,  swept  entirely  back  from  her  white 
forehead,  rolled  over  the  pillow  in  great  shining  masses, 
and  fell  with  its  heavy  length  upon  the  carpet.  Pearl 


THE    LIGHT   BREAKS.  301 

motioned  us  to  be  silent — for  Ethel's  eyes  were  closed,  and 
she  appeared  sleeping— so  we  sat  down  quietly  to  await 
her  waking." 

It  was  a  most  lovely  picture !  the  contrast  of  their 
beauty,  at  all  times  striking,  was  now  particularly  so,  for 
the  glow  of  health  upon  the  Creole  girl's  cheek  caused  the 
marble  pallor  of  her  companion's  to  look  still  more  un 
earthly  in  its  fairness— while  the  purple  blackness  of 
Pearl's  tresses  seemed  intensified  by  the  rippling  mass  of 
glistening  hair  she  was  combing.  Presently,  the  first 
shadow  of  a  smile  we  had  seen  there  for  months,  hovered 
over  the  sleeper's  lips,  and  then,  as  those  long  lashes  were 
slowly  lifted  (unaware  of  our  presence),  she  murmured — 

"  Oh,  Pearl,  I  have  had  such  a  sweet  dream !  I 
thought  your  father  was  here,  and  that  we  were  all  so 
happy — what  a  pity  I  awoke  just  now,  it  is  very  sad  to 
arouse  from  blessed  dreams  to  a  wretched  reality  :" 

Then,  turning  her  head  wearily  on  the  pillow,  she  saw 
us,  and  observing  my  father's  altered  expression,  said 
quickly — 

"  What  has  happened,  father,  to  make  you  look  almost 
happy?" 

"I  am  happy,  my  darling  child,  because  your  dream, 
let  us  trust,  will  be  ere  long  realized,  for  the  letter  bidding 
Clifford  return  is  on  its  way  to  England." 

-  She  knew  all  now,  and  as  tears  unbound  a  tense  grief, 
she  buried  her  face  in  the  pillow.     Oh,  what  a  relief  that 


302  WOODBUEN. 

fit  of  weeping  was  to  one  whose  sensitive  nature  felt,  as 
it  were,  the  burden  of  a  great  sin  lifted  from  her  soul ! 
At  last,  becoming  calm,  she  said, 

"Father,  how  long  will  it  be  before  Lenox  can  arrive ? 
I  shall  so  pine  now  to  have  our  marriage  made  lawful  in 
the  sight  of  God." 

And  a  mysterious,  sacred  chord  then  thrilled  within  her 
heart,  for  the  first  tinge  of  color  we  had  seen  upon  my  sis 
ter's  face,  since  that  fatal  evening,  when  the  shaft  of  Basil 
Thorn's  horrible  vengeance  struck  her  low,  now  suffused 
it,  mounting  even  to  her  brow,  creating  a  glow  beneath  its 
perfect  pallor,  like  a  faint  blush  of  pink,  a  dim  glow  after 
sunset  shining  through  the  transparent  whiteness  of  pearly 
clouds.  We  all  observed  this  flush,  and  our  hearts  thrilled 
responsive  to  hers,  for  we  knew  the  tender  secret  of  her 
bosom,  and  my  father  replied, 

"  He  can  be  here  in  six  weeks,  by  returning  in  the  ves 
sel  which  will  probably  take  over  my  letter — at  all  events, 
we  know  he  will  not  lose  a  moment — so  my  stricken  bird 
must  cheer  up,  and  try  to  look  more  like  her  own  bright 
self  by  the  time  our  exile  returns,"  and  kissing  her  ten 
derly,  he  left  the  room. 

"What  do  you  think  is  #ur  last  news  from  Victor?" 
said  my  uncle  Dunbar,  while  shaking  hands  with  me  that 
afternoon,  as  he  came  up  the  front  door  steps  where  I  hap 
pened  to  be  standing,  "you  can't  guess.'1 


THE    LIGHT   BREAKS.  303 

"Nothing  bad,  I  trust,  uncle — is  lie  going  to  be  mar 
ried  ?" 

And  the  calmness  with  which  these  words  were  uttered, 
astonished  the  foolish  dreamer,  who  was  at  last  forced  to 
realize  the  certainty  of  a  final  waking  from  these  cherished 
delusions,  which,  though  not  entirely  unexpected,  was  hard 
to  bear. 

"  Ha!  you  have  guessed  well,  or  were  you  in  his  confi 
dence  ?  He  never  even  mentioned  Miss  Morton's  name  in 
writing  to  me,  until  now — the  scamp — when  he  goes  on 
abruptly  to  say,  they  have  been  traveling  together  for 
months,  that  she  is  the  most  fascinating  creature  in  the 
world,  and,  in  short,  begs  my  consent  to  their  immediate 
marriage — 

"But  bless  me,  Amy,  how  pale  you  look — is  Ethel 
worse,  or  have  you  had  any  bad  tidings  from  Clifford  ?  I 
was  so  busy  thinking  and  talking  about  Victor,  as  to  for 
get  for  a  moment  how  much  you  all  have  to  trouble  you 
here — shame  on  me  for  it,"  and  he  patted  me  kindly  on 
the  cheek. 

With  an  effort  to  be  calm,  I  told  him  of  Arthur's  death, 
at  the  same  time  opening  the  library  door  where  I  knew 
he  would  find  my  father,  and  I  longed  to  be  alone,  for  my 
heart  was  full  of  contending  emotions.  Rejoicing  most 
fervently  with  my  beloved  sister,  that  the  dark  cloud  was 
sweeping  away  from  her  existence,  while  the  certainty  of 
an  event,  whose  anticipation  even,  had  caused  the  rosy 


304  WOODBURN. 

flush  of  hope  to  fade  from  my  romantic  future,  fell  upon 
my  heart  sadly,  coldly,  like  snow  upon  violets,  covering 
them  up  with  a  dreary  white  shroud — and  yet  the  violets 
do  not  die,  for  when  warm  winds  blow  again,  melting  that 
chilly  veil,  lo  !  those  sweet  spring  flowers  uplift  once 
more  their  modest  blue  eyes,  joyously  to  meet  the  return 
ing  sunlight. 

A  delicate  structure  had  it  been,  that  enchanted  palace 
of  my  girlish  dreams — such  juvenile  efforts  at  aerial  archi 
tecture  are  apt  to  topple  over  for  want  of  a  firm  founda 
tion,  and  those  who  indulge  a  taste  for  building  them,  re 
semble  children  who  blow  out  shining  bubbles  in  the  sun 
shine,  adding  breath  after  breath  to  make  them  larger  and 
brighter,  'till  suddenly  the  glittering  wonders  burst  and 
leave  them  pining  over  the  loss  of  things  so  fair  and  so 
unreal. 

After  leaving  my  uncle  in  the  library,  I  seized  my  hat 
and  mantle,  and  followed  by  Bang,  ran  off  to  the  garden. 

How  dreary  the  summer-house  looked  to  me  now  !  with 
dead  leaves  still  drifting  in  through  the  gnarled  vines  by  a 
stormy  March  wind — no  jasmine  flowers  were  there,  no 
vestiges  of  summer  glory — for  the  trees  were  just  begin 
ning  to  bud,  and  the  green  of  the  clinging,  sombre  ivy  had 
a  mournful  look  in  that  chilly  air,  beneath  that  leaden  sky 
— where  grey  clouds  looked  stationary,  as  if  gathered  there 
to  imprison  the  blue  beyond,  and  as  if  they  never  intended 
to  pass  away. 


THE   LIGHT   BREAKS.  305 

I  was  silly  enough  to  wish  the  dog  could  understand 
and  appreciate  my  sorrow,  and  as  he  looked  up  wistfully 
into  my  face — whose  expression  just  about  that  time  I  feel 
convinced,  must  have  been  exceedingly  forlorn — I  could 
not  help  whispering  to  him — 

"Oh,  Bang,  if  you  only  knew  ! — " 

But  dogs  are  not  romantic,  and  my  shaggy  companion, 
with  a  most  unfeeling,  reckless  indifference  of  the  fatal 
consequences-  which  might  occur  to  me  from  Miss  Eva 
Morton's  becoming  Mrs.  Victor  Dunbar,  began  to  jump  up 
and  bark  violently  at  a  dignified  grey  grimalkin  who  came 
gliding  stealthily  down  the  side  of  the  summer-house  on 
her  return  from  an  unsuccessful  expedition  in  search  of 
certain  little  brown  wrens,  which  were  in  the  habit  of 
haunting  that  same  rustic  bower,  summer  and  winter,  as 
constantly  as  myself,  evidently  heeding  my  presence  as 
little  as  if  I,  too,  were  a  wren. 

These  wee  things  were  very  wide  awake,  however,  and 
though  pussy  often  laid  in  wait,  meditating  the  destruction 
of  the  feathered  innocents,  I  never  saw  any  feathers  flying 
about  as  marks  of  her  destructive  abilities,  and  moreover, 
in  her  descent,  she  always  looked  lank  and  hungry,  partic 
ularly  so,  I  thought,  that  dismal  March  afternoon,  and  I 
was  glad  of  it,  for  the  amiability  of  her  mood  was  not  im 
proved  thereby,  and  as  Mr.  Bang  jumped  up  at  her 
when  fairly  within  his  reach,  she  gave  his  sleek  nose  such 
a  succession  of  sharp  scratches,  that  turning  from  her 


306  WOODBURN. 

ingloriously  vanquished  and  howling  most  woefully,  he 
rushed  to  me  for  comfort. 

But  I  was  in  no  humor  for  comforting  even  a  dog,  and 
pushing  him  off  roughly,  with  a  kind  of  bitter  satisfaction, 
that  a  fine  large  male  dog  should  be  thus  signally  defeated 
by  a  common  sized  female  cat,  and  feeling  rather  a  con 
tempt  for  said  specimen  of  the  canine-  race  under  the  cir 
cumstances,  I  exclaimed, 

"  Begone,  ungrateful  beast,  you  barked  at  the  cat  when 
told  of  my  sorrows,  and  she  scratched  your  unsympathiz- 
ing  nose — I  am  glad  of  it — Bang,  you  are  a  coward  !"  and 
struck  with  the  absurdity  of  the  scene,  I  startled  the  brown 
wrens  by  bursting  into  a  queer  fit  of  hysterical  laughter, 
for  the  old  spirit  of  defiant  merriment  was  strong  in  me 
yet,  and  though  of  late  so  overwhelmed  by  gloom,  it  would 
occasionally  struggle  to  the  surface,  mocking  my  sad 
thoughts  like  some  gay  frolicking  child3  shouting  for  joy 
among  a  company  of  mourners. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

A    BLIGHTED     MAT-FLOWER. 

As  a  spring  snow-flake,  frail  and  fair, 
Melting  away  upon  the  air, 
A  waif  of  heaven — unstained  by  earth, 
Lost  in  the  moment  of  its  birth  1 

ON  the  1st  of  May  an  infant's  feeble  wail  was  heard  at 
Woodburn — plaintive  and  trembling  it  died  away;  and 
then,  by  that  very  same  window  where  Ethel  had  stood 
before  me  in  her  bridal  attire,  while  a  shade  of  coming 
sorrow  hovered  over  her  in  the  moonlight,  where  the 
crisped  leaves  of  autumn  had  whirled  in  over  the  couch  on 
which  she  lay  mourning  and  suffering,  and  where  I  had 
watched  the  heavy,  dismal  clouds  of  January  like  a  black 
mask  upon  the  smiling  face  of  heaven — even  as  the  shadow 
of  that  great  sorrow  then  obscuring  the  light  of  joy  within 
our  home — there  on  the  same  spot  I  stood  again,  weeping 
over  the  little  white-robed  form  of  Ethel's  dead  baby. 

Pale,  dewy  rosebuds  and  lilies  of  the  valley  were  clasped 
in  its  tiny  hands  and  grouped  gracefully  upon  the  breast 
and  around  the  cold,  delicately  beautiful  face  of  that  silent 


308  WOODBUKN. 

little  one  whose  sinless  spirit  had  passed  away  without  a 
taint  of  earth.  I  could  scarcely  help  feeling  grateful, 
even  while  mourning,  that  God  had  claimed  my  sister's 
lovely  boy  as  one  of  his  own  bright  angels,  for  though  Mr. 
Clifford  had  returned  a  week  before  its  birth,  when  their 
marriage  was  made  lawful  the  very  next  day  in  presence 
of  all  at  -  Woodburn  and  Elgin,  yet  by  a  censorious 
world,  in  after  years,  a  slur  perhaps  might  have  been 
cast  upon  the  birth  of  that  fair  child,  and  hence  'twas  bet 
ter  thus. 

Touching  and  beautiful  was  the  tender  love  with  which 
both  Ethel  and  Lenox  Clifford  clung  to  and  yearned  over 
that  little  waif  of  heaven.  Grateful  that  the  cloud 
of  late  lowering  over  their  path,  darkening  both  past 
and  future,  had  been  swept  away,  leaving  them  united  and 
blest,  yet  humbly,  hopefully  sorrowing  over  the  grave  of 
their  child,  whose  eternity  of  delight  in  a  far  off  celestial 
home  could  never  be  dimmed  by  the  shadow  which  might 
have  darkened  its  earthly  existence. 

Down  in  the  Woodburn  cemetery,  overshadowed  by  a 
clump  of  myrtles,  there  is  a  little  grave  ever  guarded  by  a 
snow-white  dove  of  finest  marble,  and  covered  in  spring 
time  with  sweet  violets  and  daisies — meet  emblem  of  an 
ephemeral  May-day  existence ! 

Months  of  sorrow  and  anxiety  had  changed  Mr.  Clifford, 
for  there  were  lines  on  his  brow  and  a  few  white  hairs 
shining  amid  those  waving  brown  locks  when  he  returned 


A   BLIGHTED   MAY-FLOWER.  309 

from  England ;  but  as  my  sister  began  to  recover,  when 
her  tears  had  ceased  to  flow  in  their  first  bitterness  over 
that  sunny  little  mound  among  the  myrtles,  those  care 
worn  lines  lessened  and  the  gray  hairs  did  not  increase. 

Utterly  vain  still  proved  every  attempt  to  trace  out  the 
hiding  place  of  Basil  Thorn,  though  no  possible  means  were 
left  untried  by  which  he  might  be  arrested  and  brought  to 
justice — for  even  apart  from  my  father's  power  to  convict 
him  for  forgery,  the  feeling  excited  universally  by  his  base 
and  malignant  vengeance  against  Ethel  was  so  strong,  that 
many  persons  thought  if  discovered  he  would  be  hung  up 
by  a  mob. 

I  felt  perfectly  satisfied  that  if  not  found  and  punished 
then,  he  would  never  escape  a  just  retribution  even  in  this 
world,  for  "  vengeance  is  mine,"  saith  the  Lord.  What  a 
triumphant  leer  shone  in  Archey's  eye  when  (upon  meet 
ing  me  one  day  after  the  terrible  denouement  which  so 
speedily  followed  his  panic  of  terror  when  I  was  packing 
books  in  the  hall)  he  said — 

"  Golly,  Miss  Amy,  but  did'nt  I  tell  you  dat  Dr.  Foster 
was  a  real  son  ob  de  debble  ?  Fore  de  Lord,  but  I'd  like 
mightily  to  have  a  chance  of  hashin  his  ugly  carcass  up  in 
master's  cotton-gin,"  and  the  negro  grinned  with  almost 
savage  ferocity. 

Gabe  had  been  sent  back  to  the  Glen  where  he  belonged, 
and  which,  instead  of  being  sold  as  we  had  heard,  was  sim 
ply  claimed  by  the  person  from  whom  the  pretended  Dr 


310  WOODBURN. 

Foster  had  bought  it,  for  he  had  made  but  one  very  small 
payment  on  the  property,  after  enjoying  the  benefit  of  an 
unusually  large  crop,  when  suddenly  declaring  himself 
unable  to  pay  for  the  place,  he  gave  it  up,  having  accom 
plished  the  dark  purpose  which  brought  him  there,  and 
flitted  away  amid  the  ghastly  gloom  of  his  own  wickedness, 
even  as  "Hans  of  Iceland,  the  demon  of  the  North,"  is 
described  by  Victor  Hugo,  as  vanishing  instantaneously, 
mysteriously,  his  beastly  claws  still  reeking  with  the  blood 
of  human  victims,  down  a  perpendicular  height,  or  within 
the  unexplored  windings  of  a  mountain  cave. 

Ralph  was  charmed  with  his  college  life  in  England, 
and  now  his  cheerful  letters  were  full  of  anticipated  delight 
at  the  prospect  of  seeing  us  ere  very  long  at  Clifton,  the 
beautiful  place  to  which  Mr.  Clifford  was  so  anxious  Ethel 
should  accompany  him,  and  over  which  Ralph  was  in  rap 
tures,  having  visited  it  before  going  to  college. 

My  sister's  health,  however,  continued  so  delicate  during 
several  months  as  to  unfit  her  for  undergoing  the  fatigues 
of  a  long  journey,  which,  therefore,  had  to  be  postponed 
until  after  Pearl's  marriage,  now  fixed  for  September — and 
the  anticipation  of  our  presence  upon  that  occasion  was  a 
great  source  of  happiness  to  all  at  Elgin,  especially  the 
lovely  bride  elect. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  here  that  Clarence  Morton 
concluded  not  to  go  abroad,  in  spite  of  the  very  great  desire 
he  had  expressed  to  meet  his  father  and  sister  there,  and 


A  BLIGHTED   MAY-FLOWER.  311 

the  delight  he  would  have  in  going  with  Mr.  Clifford. 
Yet  was  Mr.  Clifford  suffered  to  depart  without  his  friend 
Clarence,  who,  oddly  enough,  when  the  time  was  again 
mentioned  for  our  departure,  wrote  to  my  brother-in-law 
that  he  would  join  us  in  New  York. 

Mr.  Morton's  letters  frequently  alluded  to  his  sister's 
happy  engagement  to  Victor  Dunbar,  as  I  knew  from 
hearing  Mr.  Clifford  read  them  aloud  to  Ethel,  but  she 
never  mentioned  the  subject  to  me,  for  with  a  woman's 
clever  acuteness,  having  read  long  ago  the  secret  of  my 
girlish  heart,  she  respected  it  too  much  to  chafe,  either  by 
serious  reference  or  careless  joke,  the  sensitive  wound, 
which,  though  generally  healed  by  time  in  juvenile  hearts, 
is  yet  very  apt  to  leave  a  scar,  as  gashes  in  the  bark  of  a 
tender  sapling,  though  failing  to  destroy  its  life,  or  even 
strength,  for  full  of  vigorous  sap,  it  grows  up  to  be  a  tree 
of  the  forest — yet  in  after  years,  upon  the  matured  trunk, 
may  be  found  corrugated  scars  left  by  early  wounds 
upon  the  delicate  rind. 

And  so  the  days  and  weeks  glided  by,  and  so  the  summer 
wore  away  at  Woodburn. 

The  starry  myrtle  blossoms  had  fallen  on  the  grave  of 
little  Percy  Clifford,  where  the  sod  was  greener  and  the 
tufts  of  violets  and  daisies  more  luxuriant  than  elsewhere, 
because  it  was  so  carefully  and  constantly  tended,  and 
within  that  clump  of  myrtles  from  day  to  day,  all  summer 
long,  there  sang  a  mocking  bird,  whose  notes  were  so 


312  WOODBURN. 

thrillingly  sweet,  especially  when  the  moon  was  full  and 
bright,  that  my  sister  loved  to  linger  there  drinking  in  the 
musical  tones  of  its  wondrous  melody — for  she  said  they 
were  like  messages  of  peace  and  love  from  the  spirit  of  her 
angel  child. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

HOW  THE  PEAKL  OF  ELGIN  SHONE  IN  AN  AUTUMN  SUNSET. 

At  the  altar  they  were  kneeling, 

"Where — through  chancel  windows  stealing — 

Soft  shone  the  autumn  sunset  light, 

It  was  a  fair  and  holy  sight. 

PEARL  CLIFFORD  and  Cecil  Clare  were  married  in  the 
elegant  little  Gothic  neighborhood  church,  near  Elgin,  the 
ceremony  being  performed  by  the  Bishop  just  at  sunset  on 
the  10th  of  September.  Aunt  Kate  insisted  on  having 
a  grand  entertainment,  and  Pearl  was  determined  to  be 
married  at  the  altar — so,  as  night  church  weddings  are  not 
convenient  in  the  country,  they  compromised — the  hour  of 
sunset  being  chosen  for  their  nuptials,  at  which  only  rela 
tions  and  intimate  friends  were  present,  and  a  large  party 
invited  to  Elgin  later,  when  the  yard  was  illuminated  and 
all  festive  preparations  carried  out  on  a  grand  scale. 

The  golden  glow  of  declining  day  stealing  in  through 
violet  and  crimson  glass  with  that  mellow  richness  so  pecu 
liar  to  autumn  sunsets  in  southern  climes — the  venerable 
appearance  of  the  Bishop,  together  with  the  youth  of  the 

lovers  and  extreme  loveliness  of  the  bride — all  contributed 

14 


314  WOODBUBN. 

towards  rendering  that  wedding  the  most  touchingly  beau 
tiful  and  at  the  same  time  holy  sight  I  ever  witnessed. 

Madam  Armond  had  sent  Pearl's  dress,  veil,  etc.,  as 
bridal  gifts  from  Paris,  and  they  assuredly  did  no  little 
credit  to  her  taste,  being  composed  of  the  most  delicate 
lace  imaginable,  and  over  the  veil,  in  place  of  flowers,  was 
clasped  a  bandeau  of  rare  and  costly  pearls,  so  suitable  to 
her  name,  and  forming  such  a  charming  contrast  to  the 
glowing  charms  of  her  Creole  beauty. 

So  thrilling  was  the  effect  of  that  scene  on  the  spectators 
that  when  they  knelt  for  the  benediction  there  was  scarcely 
a  dry  eye  amid  the  company  there  assembled.  It  was 
rather  remarkable  that  the  gayest,  nay,  I  might  almost  say 
the  wildest,  girl  in  our  neighborhood — for  she  undoubtedly 
was  so  until  after -the  fall  from  her  horse  two  years  before 
—  should  marry  Cecil  Clare,  and  this  very  fact,  together 
with  the  gentle,  restraining  influence  his  love  and  blessed, 
cheerful  teaching  of  religion  had  exerted  over  her,  added 
to  the  singularly  striking  and  picturesque  splendor  of  that 
solemn  ceremony. 

Mr.  Clifford  was  visibly  affected  when  called  upon  to  give 
away  the  lovely  daughter  he  had  so  lately  found,  and  yet 
it  was  not  a  dismal  wedding  where  people  drew  down  their 
faces  as  if  called  upon  to  look  as  much  as  possible  like  chief 
mourners  at  a  funeral.  Nothing  of  the  kind.  So  much 
beauty  and  holiness  combined  to  thrill  a  tender  chord  in 
feeling  natures,  causing  almost  a  pleasant  emotion  of  sad- 


THE   PEARL   OF  ELGIN.  315 

ness,  one  which  we  enjoy,  and  love  to  remember  in  after 
times. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  here  a  most  touching  scene 
occurring  just  after  the  ceremony.  Michael  McAlpine  had 
been  sent  down  to  New  Orleans  for  his  father,  as  Pearl 
was  most  anxious  to  see  the  old  man  and  have  him  present 
at  her  wedding,  which  suggestion  was  warmly  entered  into 

oo  »/ 

by  all  at  Elgin  and  Woodburn.  He  came,  and  being 
present  with  his  son  in  church,  was  the  first  (after  her  im 
mediate  family)  whom  Mr.  Clifford  led  up  to  congratulate 
the  lovely  bride. 

With  humble  gallantry,  and  true  feeling,  the  honest  old 
Scotchman  dropped  down  on  one  knee,  and  raising  the 
little  white  hand,  whereon  now  shone  Pearl's  wedding-ring, 
to  his  lips,  said  earnestly — 

"  God  bless  my  bonnie  bairn,"  and  then  to  Mr.  Clifford, 
as  he — McAlpine — rose  and  turned  away  :  "I  always 
knew  she  was  a  born  leddy,  sir — aye,  just  as  well  when 
I  picked  her  up  out  of  the  tumbling  brine  and  called 
her  '  my  pearl,'  as  at  this  moment,  when  my  old  eyes  are 
blessed  with  a  sight  of  the  lassie  then  so  wee,  and  now 
grown  up  to  look  as  grand  and  bonnie  as  a  queen.  Nae 
wonder  ye  look  sa  happy  and  proud,  sir,  wi'  sic  a  winsome 
wife  and  daughter." 

My  father  being  anxious  to  leave  Woodburn  in  charge 
of  a  trustworthy  person — after  old  McAlpine  came — • 
Mr.  Clifford  suggested  him  as  most  suitable,  and  with 


316  WOODBURN. 

the  consent  of  the  Dunbars  it  was  arranged  that  Michael 
should  remain  there  with  his  father  until  our  return  from 
Europe. 

The  wedding  party  at  Elgin  was  a  decided  success,  and 
Aunt  Kate  proportionally  exultant.  My  sister  looked 
almost  like  herself  again  while  there — for  they  left  before 
the  late  guests  arrived — the  memory  of  that  fair  little 
sleeper  beneath  the  myrtles,  being  too  fresh  for  those 
grieved  though  grateful  hearts  to  participate  yet  in  scenes 
of  mirth. 

A  sort  of  proud  resolution  had  taken  possession  of  me 
since  the  fall  of  my  air-castles  which  did  more  towards 
transforming  the  child  into  the  woman  than  years  of  happy 
experience  could  have  effected,  and  when  the  subject  of 
Victor's  engagement  to  the  fascinating  Miss  Morton  was 
freely  discussed  at  Pearl's  wedding,  I  listened  and  smiled, 
and  even  joined  in  these  conversations ;  yet  my  heart  was 
heavy.  For  while  these  sweet  young  dreams  faded  away, 
I  clung  to  them  as  they  receded,  striving  sometimes  to 
forget  the  reality,  and  revel  once  more  in  the  ideal ;  but 
fancies  of  impossible  happiness  are  rather  tantalizing  than 
consoling,  and  as  time  wore  on,  ceasing  to  encourage  them, 
I  tried  to  feel  old,  and  look  on  my  ruined  hopes  as  the  result 
of  childish  folly. 

Aunt  Kate  was  in  her  element  amid  wedding  festivities 
on  that  10th  of  September,  and  just  as  excited,  or  perhaps 
a  wee  bit  fussy — as  the  dearest,  best  Scotch  spinster  might 


THE    PEAKL    OF    ELGIN.  317 

naturally  be  upon  such  an  occasion.  I.  never  saw  her  look 
so  well,  for  in  arranging  her  cap,  which  was  a  present  from 
my  sister,  especially  contrived  for  that  occasion,  of  soft  lace 
and  lilac  ribbon — Ethel  protesting  against  the  queer  pro 
pensity  aunty's  caps  had  generally  evinced  for  crawling  to 
the  remote  part  of  her  head — laughingly  told  the  old  lady  she 
would  make  it  impossible  for  this  one  to  follow  the  exam 
ple  of  its  predecessors,  by  pinning  it  on,  and  then  begged 
as  a  favor  that  she  would  not  pull  at  it,  for  if  so,  instead 
of  coming  gradually  from  the  back  of  her  head  to  the 
proper  position  for  dignified  caps,  as  usually  followed 
after  sundry  vigorous  jerks,  that  this  one  would  probably 
land  on  the  end  of  her  nose,  before  the  end  of  the  evening. 
Aunty  Kate  promised  well,  but  towards  supper  time,  I 
saw  the  new  head-gear  receive  several  alarming  tugs,  and 
but  for  Ethel's  cute  plan  of  securing  it  with  hair  pins,  the 
soft  gray  curls  she  had  taken  such  pains  to  arrange  to  the 
best  advantage,  would  inevitably  have  disappeared  entirely 
under  their  overtopping  of  lace  and  ribbon. 

Uncle  Dunbar  was  well  pleased  also  as  the  dispenser  of 
hospitality  to  such  a  "  goodly  companie,"  though  Pearl  said 
jokingly  that  papa  was  miserable,  not  at  the  prospect  of 
losing  her,  but  because  there  were  not  half  a  dozen  sickly 
parsons  in  the  house,  with  their  gruel,  broth,  and  black 
tea,  instead  of  a  healthy  set,  capable  of  digesting  salads 
and  ice-cream ;  he  laughed,  but  not  unmindful  of  the  one 
bilious  stoop-shouldered  individual  who  happened  to  be  so- 


318  WOODBURN. 

journing  there  at  present — just  before  supper,  in  passing 
me,  as  he  hurried  out  of  the  drawing-room — kind,  unself 
ish  Uncle  D  unbar  !  with  that  quizzical  wink  so  peculiar  to 
him,  said — 

"  I'm  going  into  the  kitchen  to  order  some  mush  and  a 
cup  of  tea  for  poor  Ogden — a  fine  wedding  feast !  suppose 
we  join  him,  Amy — he's  gone  up 'stairs — can't  stand  late 
suppers — a  good  fellow,  but  unfortunately  with  a  bad  di 
gestion,  and  everybody,  you  see,  to-night,  forgets  he  is 
dieting,  except  myself — and  away  went  that  most  hospita 
ble  of  hosts,  who  could  never  resist  a  joke,  even  at  the  ex 
pense  of  his  own  hobbies.  The  next  day  Cecil  Clare  and 
his  bride  were  to  go  home,  the  parsonage  having  been 
beautifully  fitted  up  for  the  reception  of  its  new  mistress — 
and  being  now  as  dainty  a  cottage  as  could  well  be  imagined. 

I  think  Aunt  Kate  would  have  grieved  more  at  the 
prospect  of  Pearl's  bright  presence  passing  away  from  the 
home  of  her  childhood — even  though  it  was  to  linger  yet 
so  near — but  for  the  twitter  of  excitement  she  was  thrown 
into  by  Victor's  determination  to  return  with  his  charming 
Eva  to  Elgin.  They  were  to  be  married  at  Paris  towards 
the  end  of  September,  return  to  Elgin  for  the  winter,  and 
probably  revisit  Europe  the  following  spring — so,  as  we 
would  hardly  arrive  in  England  before  their  departure 
from  France  for  America,  there  appeared  but  little  chance 
of  our  meeting  at  present — which  was  a  great  relief  to 
me  !  What  a  change  !  —  to  feel  relieved  at  the  pros- 


THE    PEARL    OF    ELGIN.  319 

pect  of  not  meeting  one  who  had  been  so  much  in  my 
thoughts,  and  from  whom  the  idea  of  a  prolonged  absence 
had,  but  a  short  time  before,  made  all  things  appear  so 
dreary  !  Far  better  thus,  than  feel  the  stinging  mortifica 
tion  of  hearing  Yic tor  call  me  "  little  coz"  in  the  presence 
of  his  beautiful  wife,  anything  but  that  now — and,  more 
over,  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  me  to  love  Eva  yet,  as  I 
should  wish  to  love  his  wife.  Women's  hearts  are  not 
generally  as  pliable  as  wax  or  potter's  clay,  to  be 
moulded  into  shapes  to  suit  occasions — whatever  hypo 
chondriac,  morose  old  bachelors  may  say  to  the  contrary, 
and  mine  was  less  yielding  than  most  hearts  to  circum 
stances — if  pulled  one  way  against  its  inclinations,  being 
most  perversely  inclined  to  go  in  an  opposite  direction. 
Perhaps  the  time  might  come,  when  some  potent  influence 
was  destined,  with  subtile  power,  superior  to  its  own, 
to  conquer  the  perversity  of  my  wilful  nature — but  that 
time  was  not  yet.  For  though  delighting  in  the  happiness 
of  my  sister  and  Pearl — spite  of  all  my  efforts  to  banish 
it — there  rested,  like  a  deadly  shadow  of  the  Upas  tree 
within  my  heart,  the  bitter,  regretful  thought,  that  such 
bliss  was  not,  and  never  could  be  mine  !  How  paltry  and 
absurd  such  fancies  appear  as  we  look  back  upon  them 
through  a  long  vista  of  years,  whose  experience  has  taught 
us  that  the  passion,  par  excellence,  of  one's  life,  is  not 
generally  the  first. 


CHAPTER     XXXIII. 

THE      PEDDLEK. 

On  his  white  cheek  and  livid  lips, 
Some  startling  fear  had  left  its  trace, 
A  ghastly  terror  we  beheld 
Enthroned  upon  his  face  ! 

A  FEW  days  after  the  wedding,  as  I  sat  in  my  room, 
making  preparations  for  departure,  Lucy  came  rushing  in, 
greatly  excited  and  evidently  pleased,  for  with  a  broad  grin, 
she  exclaimed — 

"  Oh,  Miss  Amy,  dar's  a  peddler  down  stairs  in  de  hack 
porch,  wid  a  great  pack  of  such  pretty  things,  do,  please 
mam,  come  down  and  look  at  dem,  won't  you  ?  Dar's 
sich  a  monstus  splendid  calico,  wid  red  spots  all  over  it, 
I'd  like  if  you'll  be  so  kind  as  to  get  it  for  me — do,  please, 
Miss,  for  I'll  take  sich  good  care  of  your  birds,  and  Bang, 
too,  till  you  comes  back." 

She  was  a  faithful  creature,  and  this  appealing  touch, 
about  my  pets  was  irresistible,  so  I  went  down,  and  there, 
sure  enough,  was  the  peddler,  with  his  pack  of  wonders 
displayed  to  the  admiring  gaze  of  a  whole  host  of  darkeys, 


THE  PEDDLEK.  321 

big  and  little,  who  stood  with  staring  eyes  and  open 
mouths,  as  wonder-stricken  as  Aladdin  when  he  beheld  the 
glories  of  the  magician's  cavern,  or  as  children  might  be 
dazzled  and  amazed  by  the  glittering  splendors  of  an  east 
ern  bazaar,  for  this  simple-hearted  people,  delighting  in 
bright  colors,  never  tire  of  beholding  the  varied  stores  of 
these  itinerant  merchants. 

The  peddler  was  a  fat  man,  with  stooping  shoulders, 
green  goggles,  and  gray  hair,  which,  in  its  bushy,  unnatu 
ral  appearance,  rather  resembled  a  wig.  I  purchased  the 
dress  so  coveted  by  Lucy,  and  while  selecting  a  few  ar 
ticles  for  the  other  house-servants,  found  myself  singularly 
and  disagreeably  impressed  by  the  man's  manner  and  ap 
pearance,  and  once,  as  he  looked  up  quickly  at  Ethel, 
who  came  running  out  to  buy  a  skein  of  sewing  silk,  a 
queer  fancy  came  over  me,  that,  spite  of  the  gray  bush 
on  his  head  and  those  disguising  goggles,  there  was  a 
resemblance  between  this  strolling  vagrant  and  the  pre 
tended  Dr.  Foster,  though,  of  course,  I  did  not  venture  a 
hint  even  regarding  this  idea  of  mine  to  my  sister, 
who  could  never  hear  the  name  of  that  black-hearted  man. 
without  great  emotion,  and  expressed  herself,  as  yet,  in 
dread  of  some  further  demonstration  of  his  unsated  ven 
geance,  should  he  chance  to  hear  of  Arthur's  death. 
Ethel  went  off,  however,  without  bestowing  more  than  a 
glance  on  the  stranger,  at  which  I  felt  relieved,  and  while 

watching  the  peddler  as  he  waddled  off,  bent  down  beneath 

14* 


322  WOODBURN. 

the  load  of  his  pack,  I  ridiculed  myself  mentally  for  the 
absurdity  of  such  thoughts ;  yet  at  the  same  time  feeling 
oppressed  and  disturbed,  as  after  the  receipt  of  Rachel's 
letter,  and — without  any  definite  cause,  save  the  shadowy 
likeness  I  had  conjured  up  between  this  gray-haired  vender 
of  dry  goods  and  Dr.  Foster, — I  found  the  queer  figure  re 
ceding  down  the  front  avenue,  connected  in  my  mind  with 
Basil  Thorn,  the  wild  man,  Gabe,  and  the  blood-hound,  and 
full  of  dreary  thoughts,  turned  into  the  house,  nervous  and 
anxious,  I  scarcely  knew  why,  wishing  Mr.  Clifford  were 
at  home,  and  wondering  if  the  peddler  would  meet  him  on 
his  way  from  the  parsonage.  Just  as  I  crossed  the  thresh 
old  of  the  door,  Archey  shuffled  round  the  corner  of  the 
house,  saying — 

"  Wait  a  minit,  please,  miss,  I'se  got  some  ting  to  tell 
you." 

"  Say  on  quickly,  then,  for  I  am  weary  and  want  to  go 
in,"  I  replied,  remembering  that  Archey  was  not  among 
the  dusky  group  gathered  around  the  peddler,  and  won 
dering  what  he  could  have  been  about  to  miss  such  an 
interesting  exhibition. 

"You  see  dat  creeter  wid  a  pack,  miss,  what's  jis  gone 
out  ob  de  gate — well !  Gabe  told  me  dis  mornin  dat  he 
was  down  to  de  Glen  yesterday,  and  who  you  tink  Gabe 
says  he  is  ?" 

And  Archey,  rolling  his  eyes  around  furtively  from 
right  to  left,  and  as  if  in  dread  of  being  overheard,  putting 


THE    PEDDLER.  323 

his  hands  up  cautiously  to  his  mouth,  as  he  stepped  up  on 
the  gallery,  whispered — 

"Dr.  Foster." 

I  started,  and  felt  myself  paling  at  the  mention  of  that 
detested  name,  yet  instantly  chiding  myself  for  credulity, 
said  quickly, 

"  What  could  put  such  a  thing  into  Gabe's  head  ?" 

"Why,  miss,  kase  he's  always  been  so  skeered  for  de 
doctor,  "he  says  he'd  know  him  in  Jericho,  spite  of  his  white 
wig  and  green  spectacles.  Gabe  tells  me  he's  sartin  dat 
son  of  Satin  is  come  back  here,  jis  to  see  how  much  mis 
chief  he  hab  done,  and  (if  he  gets  a  far  chance)  to  do  more, 
but  maybe  he  won't  go  waddling  round  here  long,  for 
Gabe  hates  him  powerful,  and  Gosh  !  but  I  pities  de  ped 
dler  if  dat  nigger  gets  alone  wid  him  in  de  woods,  for  you 
see,  Gabe  looked  savage  as  a  wild-cat  when  he  says,  '  I 
never  lets  on  as  how  I  knows  him,  but  maybe  it  will  be  so 
dat  I  can  remind  him  of  our  'quantance  'fore  he  goes.' 
Je-ru-sa-lem  !  but  wouldn't  I  like  to  be  squattin  down  in 
a  old  holler  stump,  and  see  what  dat  great  black  giant 
would  do  to  de  stranger-man,  if  dey  happens  to  meet  in  a 
lonesome  place — for  wedder  he  is  de  doctor  or  not,  its  all 
one,  for  Gabe  tink  so,  he  do — and  folks  dat  peddles  tings 
round  can't  spec,  miss,  you  know,  to  keep  niggers  in  such 
a  skeer  as  fine  doctors  dat  owns  plantations  !" 

"You  and  Gabe  are  crazy,  and  if  you  don't  stop  talking 
so  absurdly,  should  anything  happen  to  the  poor  old  ped- 


324  WOODBURN. 

dler,  you'll  both  be  hung,  so  take  my  advice  and  hold  your 
foolish  tongues ;  and  Archey,  this  evening,  at  six  o'clock, 
saddle  Wizard,  and  prepare  to  attend  me  over  to  Elgin, 
for  I  have  a  head-ache,  and  want  to  ride  it  off." 

The  boy  bowed  and  disappeared,  while  I  went  in  the 
house  to  torment  myself  with  imaginary  horrors  until 
evening.  Miserable  for  fear  Gabe's  suspicions  might 
prove  correct,  yet  not  daring  to  hint  such  a  thing  to 
Ethel,  or  even  my  father,  from  dread  of  alarmingvor  an 
noying  them  unnecessarily,  I  determined  to  relieve  my 
mind  in  a  measure,  at  all  events,  by  telling  my  sus 
picions,  and  also  what  I  had  just  heard,  to  uncle  Dunbar. 

My  heart  leaped  with  delight  when  Lenox  Clifford  came 
home  safe  and  sound  from  the  parsonage,  for  I  had 
wrought  myself  up  into  a  perfect  frenzy  of  dread,  by 
imagining  him  strangled  or  stabbed,  and  then  flung  into  a 
dark  way-side  pool  by  the  peddler,  and  forthwith,  as  stimu 
lants  to  my  morbid  fancy,  every  hideous  murder  of  which 
I  had  ever  either  heard  or  read,  stood  marshaled  before 
me  in  ghastly  array.  Before  sundown  on  that  same  even 
ing,  having  succeeded  partially  in  banishing  these  torment 
ing  fears  by  a  rapid  ride,  I  found  myself  discussing  the 
matter  with  Aunt  Kate  and  Uncle  Dunbar,  on  the  balcony 
at  Elgin. 

"If  it  is  Basil  Thorn,"  I  said,  "there  is  no  knowing 
what  fiendish  motive  brings  him  here  again  disguised,  and 
indeed  believing  that  no  crime  is  too  enormous,  either  for 


THE    PEDDLEK.  325 

him  to  conceive  or  .execute,  I  cannot  help  feeling  a  dread 
of  something  awful,  and  am  particularly  anxious  about 
Mr.  Clifford's  personal  safety — what  shall  we  do  ?" 

Who  could  answer  ? 

They  were  puzzled,  and  apprehensive  too — and  yet  upon 
the  mere  say-so  of  a  negro,  what  earthly  ground  was  there 
for  arresting  the  peddler  ? 

The  dusk  of  autumn  twilight  crept  on  slowly  as  I  yet 
lingered  talking  at  Elgin,  and  when  at  last  I  called  for 
Archey  and  my  horse,  they  said  it  was  too  late  for  me  to 
ride  home  alone  with  a  servant,  and  insisted  upon  sending 
for  Michael  McAlpine  to  accompany  me,  to  which  I  most 
readily  consented  ;  for,  though  not  very  timid,  the  idea  of 
riding  home  through  the  dark  woods  at  that  hour,  with  no 
more  chivalrous  attendant  than  Archey  to  protect  me — 
perhaps  from  the  murderous  hands  of  the  grizzly  vagrant — 
was  not  cheering. 

"  Mr.  Michael  ain't  here,  sir  ;  he  went  out  to  hunt  up 
Miss  Pearl's  filly  soon  arter  dinner,  and  he's  not  got  back," 
said  Archey,  who  was  sent  by  my  uncle  to  summon  young 
McAlpine. 

"Well,  well,  sit  down,  he  will  be  here  directly,  and  if 
not  soon  enough  to  go  home  with  you,  why  then,  (if  you 
won't  let  me  accompany  you,  Miss  Amy,  though  I  could 
do  so  without  the  least  trouble)  why  just  write  a  note  by 
the  negro  and  stay  all  night." 

So   we  began  again  discussing  the  then  all   absorbing 


326  WOODBURN. 

theme  of  whether  there  was  any  real  possibility  of  Basil 
Thorn  (alias  Dr.  Foster)  circulating  again  through  the 
neighborhood  under  a  hoary  wig  and  green  goggles  ? 

Presently  there  was  a  slam  of  the  front  gate,  and  some 
one  on  horseback  rode  furiously  up  the  avenue. 

"  Why  there's  Michael  now  !  What  on  earth  brings  him 
this  way  in  such  a  hurry  ?  Hal-loo !  Michael,  what's  the 
matter  ?.  Has  Frolic  broken  her  neck  ?" 

But  the  laugh  accompanying  this  question  was  checked 
at  the  sight  of  McAlpine's  pallid  face,  who  had  come  up 
to  the  balcony  evidently  the  bearer  of  startling  news,  and 
in  extreme  terror  I  cried  out : 

"  Has  anything  happened  at  Woodburn  ?  Where  is  my 
father — Mr.  Clifford — have  you  seen  them,  Michael?" 

"  Oh,  don't  be  frightened,  Miss,  it's  all  right  there,  no 
doubt ;  but  something  dreadful  has  happened,  though  to  no 
one  we  care  about.  A  man,  sir,"  turning  to  my  uncle, 
"has  been  murdered  between  the  Glen  and  town,  which  I 
was  the  first  to  discover  while  hunting  for  Mrs.  Clare's 
little  filly  out  in  a  lonesome  piece  of  woods,  and  it  was  such 
an  awful  sight,  sir,  I  did  not  tarry  a  moment,  but  rode 
over  in  breathless  haste  to  tell  you  and  see  what  is  best  to 
be  done." 

"Murdered!"  we  all  exclaimed  almost  in  a  breath. 
"Oh!  how  dreadful !" 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Michael,  my  boy ;  who  is  it,  and 


THE   PEDDLER.  327 

where  and  how  did  you  happen  to  find  the  body  ?"  said  my 
uncle. 

"  Well,"  he  replied,  "  the  shadows  were  growing  deeper 
in  the  woods,  for  evening  was  creeping  on,  as  I  circled  the 
little  thicket  of  holly,  thorn  and  beech  about  a  mile  beyond 
the  Glen  towards  town,  hoping  to  find  Miss  Pearl's  pony, 
when  my  horse  reared  back  so  suddenly  as  almost  to  throw 
me  from  the  saddle,  at  the  same  time  snorting  violently  as 
if  in  great  terror.  I  threw  myself  down  instantly  from 
the  frightened  beast,  and  was  advancing  towards  a  dark 
object  in  the  thicket,  when  the  ringing  bay  of  a  blood 
hound  caused  me  to  start  back  with  horror — for  at  the 
same  moment  my  foot  sank  in  an  oozy  puddle,  from  which 
this  fierce  creature,  crouched  so  low  that  I  could  scarcely 
see  him  for  the  tangled  vines  and  brush-wood,  was  lap 
ping — not  water,  as  I  at  first  supposed — but  blood  ! 

"  I  felt  faint  with  terror  and  disgust,  for  my  feet  were 
saturated  with  it ;  and  there,  half-hidden  in  that  dense 
copse,  with  his  ghastly  face  upturned  to  the  sky,  while  red 
streams  were  flowing  from  his  throat  and  a  wound  over  his 
heart,  lay  the  body  of  a  thick  set,  heavy  man,  whose  bare 
head — though  it  looked  as  if  shaved,  not  bald — was  dabbled 
with  blood,  and  a  gray  wig,  probably  torn  off  in  that  deadly 
struggle,  I  found  lying  at  a  little  distance  from  the  body, 
and  near  a  heavy  pack  of  goods — which  induced  me  to 
believe  that  the  murdered  man  is  no  other  than  a  peddler 
who  for  several  days  past  has  been  wandering  through  the 


328  WOODBUEN. 

neighborhood.  Queerly  enough,  too,  the  goods  were  un 
touched,  thus  proving  that  this  awful  deed  was  not  com 
mitted  for  the  purpose  of  robbing  the  unfortunate  stramger. 
I  am  no  coward,  Mr.  Dunbar  ;  but  the  awful  sight  of  that 
gory  corpse,  and  the  fierce  brute  drinking  blood,  made  me 
so  sick  with  horror  I  had  scarcely  strength  enough  to 
mount  my  horse  and  ride  home,  but  when  fairly  off  I  gave 
him  the  rein  and  left  that  dismal  wood  behind  as  soon  as 
possible." 

We  all  listened  with  breathless  attention  to  Michael's 
dreadful  story,  and  when  he  ceased  speaking  I  remarked 
aside  to  my  uncle — 

"  If  Archey's  gossip  about  the  peddler  had  any  foundation 
of  truth,  there  could  be  little  doubt  as  to  who  had  commit 
ted  this  crime."  But  he  instantly  checked  me,  saying  : 

"Let  the  law  find  out,  and  prosecute  the  murderer,  my 
child.  It  is  a  grave  and  awful  charge  for  one  human  being 
to  bring  against  another ;  and  particularly  when  all  you  or 
I  know  is  founded  upon  the  idle  tattle  of  a  negro — just 
enough,  perhaps,  to  bring  an  innocent  person  to  unjust 
punishment,  a  far  greater  evil  than  permitting  the  guilty 
one  even  to  go  unpunished." 

I  felt  the  truth  and  justice  of  this  rebuke,  and  never 
afterwards  hinted  at  what  Archey  had  said,  save  to  those 
who  were  as  careful  in  guarding  the  secret  as  myself. 

This  murder  made  a  great  sensation  throughout  our 
quiet  neighborhood,  and  indeed  the  whole  country — not 


THE   PEDDLER.  329 

only  on  account  of  the  deep  mystery  by  which  it  was 
enveloped,  but  because  ere  long  a  report  became  whispered 
about  that  the  murdered  man  was  none  other  than  Dr. 
Foster,  alias  Basil  Thorn,  in  a  new  disguise,  which  came 
not  only  from  the  servants  but  from  the  overseer  at  the 
Glen  who  had  been  there  while  the  pretended  Foster 
owned  it,  and  said  he  recognized  his  former  employer  not 
in  the  living,  but  the  dead  peddler,  when  bereft  of  his 
disguise,  in  spite  of  that  shaven  head  and  the  disfiguring 
wounds  upon  his  face  and  throat.  My  father,  who  also 
saw  the  body,  felt  no  doubt  upon  the  subject,  and  we  were 
all  humbled  and  overpowered  by  such  unmistakable  evi 
dences  of  the  just  retribution  of  an  offended  God.  Had 
that  dreadful  man  been  permitted  to  live  (even  a  few  days 
longer)  who  can  tell  what  fatal  turn  his  vengeance  might 
have  taken  ?  Perhaps  then,  too,  there  might  have  been  a 
murder,  and  a  far  fairer  corpse,  with  soft  brown  hair  and 
marble  brow,  found  lying  cold  and  dreary  in  some  dismal, 
lonely  spot,  and  a  broken-hearted  mourner  left  pining 
hopelessly  within  our  home  !  God  be  praised  for  averting 
the  possibility  of  such  unspeakable  wretchedness — the  very 
imagining  of  which  caused  our  darling  Ethel,  when  inform 
ed  of  Basil  Thorn's  fate,  to  cling,  weeping,  around  her 
husband's  neck,  as  she  whispered — 

"  He  never  came  here  again  save  for  a  dark  purpose, 
and  I  shudder  at  the  thought  of  what  it  might  have  been." 

The  fact  that  "  Wolf,"  the  blood-hound,  of  whom  Gabe 


330  WOODBURN. 

had  charge,  was  found  reveling  in  a  gory  meal  beside  the 
body,  gave  rise  to  a  suspicion  that  he  might  be  the  guilty 
party ;  but  as  he  was  proved  to  have  been  in  the  field  at 
work  during  the  whole  of  that  day,  even  up  to  the  very 
hour  when  Michael  discovered  the  body,  and  as  the  dog's 
chain  was  broken,  there  existed  no  testimony  to  back  this 
suspicion,  and  therefore  after  being  for  awhile  kept  in  close 
custody,  examined  and  cross-examined,  the  great  black 
giant  was  released.  He  was  sullen  when  questioned,  say 
ing  he  did  not  kill  the  man,  but  (suspecting  him  to  be 
Foster)  had  an  opportunity  offered  would  have  done  so, 
for  he  was  the  worst  man  that  ever  lived,  and  deserved  to 
be  killed. 

Nothing  was  ever  known  of  what  Archey  had  said  to 
me,  and  after  the  deed,  that  most  discreet  Ethiopian,  either 
from  fear  of  getting  into  trouble  himself  or  through  friend 
ship  for  Gabe,  considered  silence  his  best  policy,  and  re 
mained  forever  mute  upon  the  subject ;  but  the  roll  of  his 
eye,  accompanied  by  a  low  chuckle,  as  he  said — 

"  What  I  tell  you,  Miss  ?" — pointing  towards  the  Glen 
when  first  I  saw  him  after  the  murder,  convinced  me  what 
he  thought ;  but  placing  my  finger  upon  my  lips  I  passed 
on,  and  Archey  was  smart  enough  to  take  that  silent  hint. 

All  efforts  to  detect  the  guilty  person  were  unavailing 
at  that  time ;  but  here  let  me  mention,  before  dismissing 
the  subject  finally,  years  afterwards  the  ravings  of  a  dying 
woman,  at  N ,  revealed,  in  herself,  the  murderer  of 


THE   PEDDLER.  331 

Basil  Thorn.  She  was  known  to  us  as  a  young  and  pretty 
girl,  though  poor,  and  a  seamstress — having  worked  for 
Ethel  before  her  first  marriage — and  afterwards  we  heard 
she  had  become  worthless  and  abandoned  to  habits  of  intem 
perance.  Among  this  poor  creature's  clothes  were  found 
letters  from  young  Thorn,  addressing  her  as  his  wife,  and 
others  (bearing  a  later  date)  in  which  he  denied,  with 
curses,  that  she  had  any  claim  upon  him,  and  swearing 
their  marriage  to  have  been  a  mockery.  She  was,  doubt 
less,  the  haggard  woman  described  by  Mrs.  Slone  to  Ethel 
and  myself  as  having  been  repeatedly  driven  away  by  Fos 
ter  from  the  Glen,  and  at  last,  stung  to  desperation  by  his 
neglect  and  curses — no  doubt  penetrating  the  disguise 
under  which  he  came,  like  a  "  thing  of  evil,"  that  second 
time  among  us — this  fierce  avenger,  inflamed  to  madness 
by  strong  drink,  laid  in  wait  for  and  murdered  her  de 
stroyer  ! 

Oh  !  the  hardened  and  frightful  wickedness  of  that 
man's  course !  How  can  such  escape  punishment  here, 
and  greater  condemnation  hereafter  ? 


- 


CHAPTER    XXXiV. 

« 

AN     UNEXPECTED     MEETING. 

"Tis  sad  to  leave  our  childhood's  sunny  home, 
For  the  sweet  spells  of  love  which  bind  us  there 

Rude  contact  with  the  world  will  sometimes  break, 
And  when  we  come  again,  a  shade  of  care, 

Or  new  found  joy,  perchance,  may  make  it  seem  less  fair. 

SHORTLY  after  the  events  related  in  the  preceding  chap 
ter  we  left  Woodburn,  and  I  never  realized  how  dear  to  my 
heart  was  this  beautiful  home  of  my  childhood  until  through 
a  mist  of  blinding  tears  it  faded  from  my  view.  The  an 
ticipated  novelty  of  traveling  through  foreign  lands  even 
could  not  overcome  my  regret  at  parting  with  so  many 
dear  asscciations,  and -also  our  beloved  friends  at  Elgin  and 
the  parsonage,  especially  Pearl,  who  was  as  a  sister  to  both 
Ethel  and  myself,  and  scarcely  less  dear  to  us  than  we 
were  to  each  other ;  yet  it  was  a  sr>»rce  of  great  consolation 
that  we  left  her  so  happy  and  so  fully  absorbed  with  her 
new  duties  of  wife  and  housekeeper,  and  I  am  rather 
inclined  to  believe  Cecil  Clare  had  it  entirely  within  his 
power  to  console  the  Pearl  of  Elgin  for  our  departure. 

I  shall  not  dwell  upon  our  journey.     Suffice  it  to  say 


AN   UNEXPECTED    MEETING.  333 

that  Mr.  Morton  made  it  convenient  to  join  us  in  New 
York.  Before  we  reached  Liverpool  I  knew  the  reason  of  his 
anxiety  to  make  one  of  our  party,  and  also  why  his  accept 
ance  of  Mr.  Clifford's  invitation  to  accompany  us  to  "  Clif 
ton  " — my  brother-in-law's  beautiful  place  in shire — 

was  conditional,  being  to  the  effect  "that  he  would  be  most 
happy  to  do  so,  but  it  must  depend  on  circumstances." 
This  contingency,  whatever  it  was,  resulted  unfavorably  for 
Mr.  Clifford's  wishes,  as  he  left  us  at  London  and  went  to 
travel  on  the  continent. 

We  did  not  meet  Victor  and  Eva  Dunbar,  as,  after  their 
marriage,  they  sailed  from  Havre  for  America,  and  a  few 
weeks  subsequent  to  our  arrival  at  Clifton  we  received  let 
ters  from  Aunt  Kate  and  Pearl  expatiating  upon  the  charms 
of  Victor's  bride.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  the  regretful  sad 
ness  heretofore  haunting  my  heart  with  Woodburn  memories, 
and  at  times  possessing  me  with  a  perverse  desire  to  return, 
faded  away — for  the  great  fear  which  had  oppressed  me  of 
meeting  those  two  happy  beings  abroad  was  lifted,  and 
since  they  were  now  so  near  my  sunny  southern  home  the 
thought  of  remaining  away  from  it  for  an  indefinite  period 
became  less  distasteful  to  me.  Indeed  there  was  a  positive 
satisfaction  in  calculating  the  wide  distance  separating  me 

• 

from  Woodburn,  and  in  dwelling  upon  the  certainty  that 
no  possible  chance,  for  a  very  long  time,  could  bring  us  in 
contact  with  Victor  and  his  wife. 

Clifton,  my  sister's  new  English  home,  was  a  grand  old 


334  WOODBTTRN. 

place,  and  if  present  happiness  can  atone  for  past  misery, 
they  were  compensated  for  even  the  bitter  wretchedness 
resulting  from  Basil  Thorn's  malignant  vengeance — for 
though  it  had  left  a  shadow  on  Ethel's  life  too  heavily 
fraught  with  gloom  to  pass  entirely  away,  yet  was  that 
shadow  brightened  now  by  a  perfect  sunshine  of  earthly 
bliss.  The  three  months  we  passed  with  them  at  Clifton, 
during  part  of  the  time  Ralph  was  also  there — has  left  a 
memory  of  that  sweet  and  peaceful  happiness  whose  reality 
calmed  my  feverish  and  tormenting  regrets  over  the  van 
ished  dreams  of  early  girlhood. 

In  January  we  all  went  to  Paris,  Mr.  Clifford  and  Ethel 
at  last  acceding  to  our  earnest  request  that  they  would 
travel  with  us  over  the  continent.  What  young  person  can 
resist  the  fascinations  of  Paris  ?  I  was  amazed,  bewildered 
at  the  endless  variety  of  wonders  presented  to  me  there, 
and  proposed  that  our  "tour  through  Europe"  should 
begin  .and  end  in  this  emporium  of  magnificence.  Mr- 
Clifford  introduced  us  to  Madam  Armond,  who  was  a  most 
charming  old  lady  with  soft  gray  curls  and  courtly  man 
ners.  She  appreciated  Ethel  fully,  quite  to  my  satisfaction 
even,  which  is  saying  a  great  deal,  for  the  intense  admira 
tion  and  affection  I  awarded  my  peerless  sister  made  me 
exceedingly  exacting  as  to  the  esteem  she  was  held  in  by 
others.  We  found  it  almost  impossible  to  satisfy  Madam 
Armond' s  curiosity  regarding  Pearl,  who  was  so  dear  to 
her  aunt  for  her  mother's  sake,  though  as  yet  personally 


AN   UNEXPECTED   MEETING.  335 

unknown.  The  old  lady  said  her  most  earnest  prayer  was 
that  she  might  live  long  enough  to  bless  Olivia's  child — • 
for  Olivia  had  been  unto  her  as  a  beloved  daughter. 

In  reverting  to  Mr.  Clifford's  early  history  she  told  us 
that  Henrique  and  Orliff  having  worked  for  years  among 
the  chain-gang  and  then  been  released,  were  afterwards 
convicted  of  other  monstrous  crimes  and  sentenced  to 
transportation,  when,  on  the  very  night  before  the  sentence 
was  to  be  carried  into  execution,  Henrique  dashed  himself 
to  pieces  in  trying  to  escape  through  his  prison  window  by 
means  of  a  rope  made  of  the  bed-clothes  torn  into  strips, 
which,  proving  too  weak  for  his  weight,  broke,  precipitating 
him  down  from  a  great  height  on  to  the  stone  pavement, 
where  he  was  picked  up  shortly  afterwards  by  the  night- 
watch,  a  lifeless  mass.  Orliff  was  transported  for  life,  and 
Madam  A.  knew  nothing  further  regarding  his  fate. 

I  must  now  pass  rapidly  over  the  time  until  our  arrival 
at  Florence,  where  I  took  it  into  my  silly  little  head  to 
plunge  recklessly — not  into  the  Arno — but  into  that  dismal 
swamp  of  despondency  elegantly  entitled  "the  blues." 
Why  so  ?  Because  it  happened  to  be  the  spot  where  two 
people  (now  far  away,  and  entirely  unconscious  of  causing 
me  the  slightest  unhappiness,)  had  chanced  to  meet  and 
fall  in  love  with  each  other,  greatly  to  my  discomfiture — 
and,  in  spite  of  my  respect  for  the  decalogue,  be  it  here 
confessed  that  I  was  occasionally  in  the  habit  of  coveting 
the  happiness  found  by  those  same  envied  lovers  at  Florence ; 


336  WOODBURN. 

and  hence  it  came  to  pass  that  I,  Amy  Percy,  on  a  certain 
evening  towards  the  middle  of  February,  1845,  stood  on 
the  banks  of  the  Arno  watching  the  sunset  clouds  pale  and 
the  yellow  moon  come  up,  feeling  very  forlorn  and  most 
egotistically  sorry  for  myself.  Weary  with  climbing  about 
a  ruined  villa  near  by,  (where  the  rest  of  my  party  still 
lingered)  having  no  fancy  for  being  dusted  by  mouldy 
curtains,  or  festooned  with  cobwebs  from  toiling  through 
deserted  halls  and  dim  old  picture  galleries,  despoiled  per 
haps  of  the  chief  artistic  gems  which  constituted  their  by 
gone  glory,  I  had  stolen  off  to  brood  drearily  over  a  past 
in  whose  lost  joys — rather  selfishly  to  be  sure — I  felt  far 
more  interested. 

I  really  do  enjoy  looking  at  beautiful  or  curious  things 
in  frequented  places,  but  this  mania  possessing  most  peo 
ple,  to  go  rummaging  through  deserted  old  mansions,  be 
they  ever  so  grand,  is  rather  beyond  my  comprehensive  love 
for,  or  appreciation  of  the  mystic  and  marvelous.  The  dusty 
arras,  with  its  dismal  rustling,  in  chambers  said  by  tradi 
tion  to  have  been  years  ago  inhabited,  perhaps  for  one 
night,  by  a  celebrity  (which  may  or  may  not  be  true), 
never  presented  any  particular  charm  for  me — neither  am 
I  fond  of  cultivating  the  ghostly  fascinations  of  a  gloomy 
apartment,  wherein  story  says  a  diabolical  murder  has 
been  committed  long  ago,  and  where  dark  looking  stains  on 
the  floor  are  pointed  out  as  blood,  which  all  the  floods  of 
all  the  oceans  could  not  remove  -though  perhaps  there 


AN    UNEXPECTED    MEETING.  337 

•was  never  either  mop,  scrubbing  brush  or  soap  introduced 
within  those  haunted,  or  rather  supposed  to  be  haunted 
walls. 

Now  it  is  far  more  likely  that  such  mysterious  spots  re 
sulted  from  the  upsetting  of  a  subtile  hair-dye  by  some 
shaky  old  bachelor,  in  by-gone  centuries,  or  the  breaking 
of  a  bottle  of  vinegar  rouge  by  an  antiquated  beauty,  while 
vainly  endeavoring,  through  the  sorceries  of  art,  to  replace 
the  vanished  freshness  and  glory  of  her  youth,  than  that 
they  were  produced  by  the  murderous  knife  of  a  jealous 
husband  or  lover !  At  all  events  I  am  very  sceptical 
regarding  such  marvelous  tales,  unless  authenticated  by 
history ;  and  it  was  my  habit,  when  deserted  castles  or 
villas  were  being  explored,  after  submitting  myself  to  be 
dragged  about  for  a  time  greatly  against  my  inclination, 
to  steal  off  and  enjoy  the  out-door  world  of  beauty,  as  on 
the  present  occasion  when  lingering  at  twilight  on  the 
banks  of  the  Arno.  Suddenly  I  was  startled  by  the  splash 
ing  sound  of  oars,  and  almost  at  the  same  moment,  a  very 
small  skiff  ran  in  to  shore  just  below  where  I  stood.  My 
first  impulse  was  to  turn  and  retrace  my  steps  towards  the 
villa,  but  before  I  could  possibly  eflect  my  retreat,  a  gen 
tleman  bounded  up  the  bank,  who  was  apparently  astonished 
no  little  at  the  sight  of  a  solitary  damsel  in  that  unfre 
quented  place — for  the  bank  prevented  his  seeing  me  until, 
to  the  surprise  of  both  parties.  Amy  Percy  and  Clarence 

Morton  stood  again,  and  most  unexpectedly,  face  to  face. 

15 


338  WOODBURN. 

"This  is  not  altogether  accidental,"  he  said,  as  I  greeted 
him  cordially  and  expressed  ray  astonishment  at  seeing  him 
there,  "  I  was  in  the  city  when  your  party  came,  but  only 
heard  of  their  arrival  this  evening,  and  being  informed  of 
your  intention  to  explore  the  ruins  in  this  direction,  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  of  following,  yet  have  found  you 
somewhat  sooner  than  I  expected — why  are  you  here  alone, 
and  where  are  the  Cliffords  and  your  father  ?" 

These  questions  were  soon  answered,  and  feeling  quite 
cheered  i)y  his  presence,  I  had  little  difficulty  in  freeing 
myself  from  the  blues ;  for  notwithstanding  the  fact  of  my 
perverse  refusal  to  encourage  Mr.  Morton's  accompanying 
us  to  Clifton — be  it  known  to  thee,  oh  gentle  reader,  that 
Mr.  Clifford's  friend  was  very  far  from  being  a  disagree 
able  person,  on  the  contrary,  exceedingly  cultivated,  with 
fine  natural  powers  of  mind  and  great  originality,  he  was 
a  most  charming  companion,  and  as  the  old  subject  upon 
which  we  had  failed  to  agree  when  crossing  the  ocean  was 
for  the  present  left  at  rest,  I  found  myself  delighted  with 
Clarence  Morton's  piquant  conversation,  and  the  moonlit 
river,  and  the  dreamy  light  of  that  Italian  sky  appeared 
absolutely  more  attractive  in  their  beauty  now,  than  when 
gazed  on  by  me  a  short  time  before  through  a  sombre  vista 
of  morbid  melancholy. 

The  exploring  party  were  all  surprised  and  happy  at 
meeting  my  companion,  and  so  we  returned  to  the  city,  all 
well  pleased,  and  one,  namely  myself,  feeling,  from  causes 


AN   UNEXPECTED    MEETING.  339 

tmknown  or  at  least  undefined  at  that  time,  far  less  forlorn 
than  when  I  left  it.  The  next  morning  Ethel  asked  me 
very  timidly  if  I  had  any  objection  to  Mr.  Morton's  join 
ing  our  party  until  his  departure  for  the  East.  He  had 
begged  of  Mr.  Clifford  to  find  out  if  I  objected,  and  hinted 
very  humbly  that  the  forbidden  subject  should  not  be  re 
vived.  I  turned  red,  felt  half  provoked  and  replied, 

"Mr.  Morton  has  a  right  to  travel  when  and  where  he 
pleases,  without  asking  my  permission.  How  absurd  to 
ask  me." 

At  this  little  outbreak  my  sister  laughed  and  went  off, 
I  presume  to  inform  the  gentleman  that  no  embargo  was 
laid  by  a  certain  young  lady  upon  his  traveling  with  Mr. 
Clifford,  as  nothing  further  was  said  about  the  matter,  and 
Mr.  Morton  remained  one  of  our  party  for  the  next  seven 
or  eight  months.  We  visited  all  the  most  interesting  por 
tions  of  Europe,  and  though  almost  constantly  with  the 
gentleman  during  this  period,  let  me  remark,  en  passant, 
I  was  not  tired  of  him,  no,  not  in  the  least,  and  rather 
glad  than  otherwise  when  he  agreed  to  return  with  us  and 
spend  a  few  weeks  at  Clifton,  entirely  en  ami — unselfish 
Morton  ! — to  Lenox  Clifford,  who  was  not  obliged  to  ex 
haust  his  eloquence  in  persuading  this  same  pattern  of  dis 
interested  friendship  to  sojourn  with  him  most  willingly  ! 

And  lo !  he  lingered  amid  the  beguiling  beauties  of 
that  fine  old  English  home — for  Clarence  Morton  was  a 
lover  of  nature — and  hence,  how  could  he  fail  to  appreciate 


340  WOODBURN. 

lawns,  parks,  gardens,  of  such  rare  perfection  ?  Until 
at  last  the  gentleman  who  was  to  be  his  compagnon  du 
voyage  through  the  East,  wrote  to  know  what  had  become 
of  this  loiterer.  Now  I  do  verily  believe  he  was  not  just 
then  so  zealous  in  his  desire  to  reach  the  holy  city  as  God 
frey  de  Bouillon  or  the  intrepid  Rinaldo,  who  dared  and 
won  so  much  in  those  glorious  days  of  crusading  chivalry  ! 
There  was  a  charming  little  lake  at  Clifton,  and  beside  its 
limpid  deeps  Mr.  Morton  was  very  fond  of  wandering,  in 
company  with  an  American  lassie  whose  disposition  he 
chose  to  admire,  having  seen  her  upon  the  occasion  of  their 
first  acquaintance  shatter  a  little  pearl  fan  rather  spitefully 
against  the  trunk  of  a  palm  tree ;  and  there  is  not  the 
slightest  doubt  this  deluded  individual,  with  a  most  egre 
gious,  unpardonable  want  of  taste,  would  have  preferred 
lingering  in  the  society  of  said  damsel  by  the  fairy  lake,  to 
plunging  headlong  into  the  Jordan  or  refreshing  him 
self  with  a  morning  bath  in  the  pitchy  waves  of  the  Dead 
Sea! 

However  he  had  promised  to.  go,  and  promises  with  such 
men  are  sacred  ;  so  one  cool,  gray,  misty  day  towards  the 
close  of  October,  he  left  us,  looking  desperate  and  forlorn, 
a  handsome  likeness  of  the  "knight  of  the  rueful  counten 
ance." 

I  wonder  if  the  "  spiteful "  young  lady  was  sorry  to  see 
him  go  ?  Nobody  asked  her ;  but  there  were  two  or  three 
bright  drops  on  the  beautiful  white  tea  rosebud  he  had  given 


AN   UNEXPECTED    MEETING.  341 

her  at  parting,  and  when  she  put  it  in  one  of  his  favorite 
books  to  press,  they  trickled  out  and  moistened  the  dainty- 
pages.  I  wonder  if  they  were  dew-drops  ?  Certain  it  is 
she  could  not  help  thinking  it  odd  how  agreeably  Clarence 
Morton  had  effected  the  change  from  a  discarded  lover  to  a 
most  charming  friend,  and  furthermore  these  reflections 
ended  in  that  perverse  little  heart  of  her's  wishing,  most 
perversely,  to  know  if  he  loved  her  yet  ?  Alas  I  he  was 
gone  now,  and  I  think  there  would  have  been  more  drops 
on  the  rosebud  had  she  dreamed  how  many  years  would 
pass  and  how  many  sad  changes  take  place  before  they 
met  again.  Such  is  life  with  its  endless  chances  and  un 
certainties. 

In  November  my  father  took  Ralph  and  myself  to  Paris 
for  the  winter  and  spring,  that  we  might  be  perfected  in 
the  French  language  before  returning  to  America.  This 
six  months  was  a  bright,  pleasant  epoch  in  my  life,  and  yet 
during  the  time  I  fell  back  somewhat  into  a  habit  of  build 
ing  air-castles  again,  though  with  far  more  maturity  of 
architectural  taste  and  experience,  and  with  even  a  surer 
foundation  I  thought  than  the  little  withered  rosebud 
which  so  often  distracted  my  thoughts  from  the  fascinating 
pages  of  Victor  Hugo  and  Racine. 

In  June  we  returned  to  Clifton,  where  Mr.  Clifford  and 
Ethel  were  supremely  happy  in  the  possession  of  a  lovely 
boy,  the  glowing,  healthy  image  of  their  little  lost  Percy, 
and  bearing  also  his  name.  On  our  arrival  from  the  con- 


342  WOODBUUN. 

tinent  he  was  three  months  old,  and  as  fair  a  child  as  ever 
blessed  the  love  of  two  such  doting  parents.  And  so  when 
the  autumn  leaves  were  once  more  falling  at  Clifton,  we 
left  them — absorbed  in  this  newly-found  joy — to  go  back 
once  more  to  our  far-off  home  at  Woodburn,  where  they 
promised  to  visit  us  in  the  course  of  a  year. 

Before  we  reached  America,  Victor  and  Eva  Dunbar 
had  left  Elgin  for  her  father's  home  in  Maryland,  and  so 
again  it  chanced  we  did  not  meet,  which  was  a  source  of 
regret,  for  then  I  felt  a  wish  to  know  and  love  my  cousin 
Victor's  wife.  How  strange  it  seemed  to  be  at  home  again, 
and  how  pleasant — yet  I  felt  so  old,  being  almost  twenty ; 
and  then  missing  Ethel  and  Mr.  Clifford  made  a  sad 
void  in  our  family  circle  —  long  was  it  ere  we  be 
came  accustomed,  and  never  entirely  reconciled,  to  their 
absence. 

The  Clares  were  very  happy — Pearl  as  lovely  as  ever, 
and  quite  matronly  with  a  sweet  little  Ethel  in  her  arms. 
Aunt  Kate's  cap  was  as  far  back  on  her  head  as  when  it 
gave  her  fingers  the  slip  in  their  spasmodic  efforts  to  pull 
it  forward  when  we  parted  two  years  before.  In  joy  or 
grief  it  was  ever  given  to  backsliding,  while  its  wearer  re 
mained  the  same  dear,  kind,  faithful  Aunty. 

Uncle  Dunbar  still  rejoiced  in  the  dispensation  of  an 
insatiable  hospitality,  and  mush,  gruel,  broth  and  black  tea 
were,  as  usual,  in  high  repute  at  the  Elgin  board,  which 
Mr.  Ogden  and  others  of  the  same  dyspeptic  fraternity 


AN    UNEXPECTED    MEETING.  343 

were  wont  to  illuminate,  as  formerly,  with  their  bilious 
presence. 

And  here  let  me  drop  the  curtain  over  several  years,  to 
lift  it  again  after  many  changes  had  altered  the  aspect  of 
things  both  at  Elgin  and  Woodburn. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

AGAIN      AT      WOODBURN. 

Changed !— for  with  those  so  fondly  cherished, 

Good,  brave  and  beautiful,  and  gay, 
The  light  of  other  days  had  perished, 

.Where  were  they  ?— Lost,  or  far  away ! 

% 

AGAIN  upon  the  gallery  at  Woodburn  there  was  a  group 
assembled  on  a  day  as  fair  as  that  with  which  this  story 
opened,  when  we  were  so  merrily  discussing  Mr.  Clifford's 
expected  arrival. 

^Che  sun  was  warm  and  bright,  the  air  again  redolent 
with  fragrance  of  myrtle,  rose  and  jasmine — the  birds  sing 
ing  as  joyously  as  if  the  shadow  of  a  mighty  sorrow  had 
not  of  late  fallen  upon  the  threshold  of  that  beloved  home. 
The  group  was  changed.  My  sister  Ethel  again  appeared, 
scarcely  less  beautiful  than  when  she  sat  almost  on  the 
same  spot  nearly  ten  years  before,  laughing  at  Ralph's  ideal 
picture  of  our  dreaded  English  tutor — but  a  deep  shade  of 
sadness  rested  on  her  lovely  brow,  while  the  close  mourn 
ing  of  her  dress — as  did  mine  also — betokened  that  our  loss 
had  been  recent  and  heavy.  There  were  golden  spring 
flowers  there  again,  for  a  beautiful  little  girl  was  twining 


AGAIN    AT    WOODBURN.  345 

garlands  of  laburnums  from  the  same  old  tree,  with  which 
she  proceeded  to  decorate  a  venerable  dog  resting  half 
asleep  and  wholly  patient  by  her  side  on  the  front  steps. 
Poor  Bang  !  he  was  too  old  and  lazy  now  to  torment  the 
cat,  and  must  submit  in  his,  turn  to  be  thus  delicately  tor 
mented. 

Alas !  the  wreaths  of  my  childhood  were  withered  long 
ago,  and  that  beloved  head  of  silvery  tresses  which  it  had 
been  then  my  delight  to  crown,  was  now  lying  low  beneath 
the  willows.  No  wonder  Woodburn  looked  gloomy  to  us 
in  spite  of  its  many  attractions — even  arrayed  thus  in  the 
full  glory  of  spring-time  freshness  !  Ah !  none  can  realize 
our  loss  save  those  who  have  looked  their  last  on  such  a 
father  !  Ralph,  too,  was  gone — not  dead,  but  married,  and 
living  far  away  in  Virginia. 

Mr.  Clifford  was  with  us,  looking  the  very  picture  of  a 
fond  proud  parent,  as  he  stood  out  on  the  lawn,  watching 
his  son  Percy,  now  five  years  old,  who  shouted  aloud  with 
joy  from  the  back  of  a  beautiful  little  Texas  pony,  which 
he  had  ventured  to  mount  for  the  first  time,  and  was  hold 
ing  on,  not  only  to  the  bridle,  but  to  the  animal's  long 
thick  mane,  delighted  and  yet  half  afraid,  as  Archey  the 
second — being  a  worthy  descendant  of  that  most  notable 
African — led  the  docile  thing  up  and  down  the  carriage 
walk.  It  was  a  pretty  sight !  the  handsome  child,  with 
his  bright,  expressive  face  and  long  brown  curls,  laughing 

and  shouting  to  the  young  Ethiopian,  whose  sleek  black 

15* 


346  WOODBURN. 

skin  and  woolly  head  appeared  in  fine  contrast  to  his  little 
master's  aristocratic  beauty,  as  he,  the  darkey,  grinned  and 
chuckled — which  last  accompaniment  he  undoubtedly  came 
by  most  honestly — evidently  enjoying  and  participating  in 
Percy's  delight.  And  here  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to 
remark  regarding  our  tattling  acquaintance,  Archey  the 
elder,  that  he  continued  still  high  in  favor  at  Woodburn — 
being  rather  more  dignified  and  somewhat  less  inclined  to 
gossip,  since  becoming  the  respectable  father  of  a  family, 
whereof  the  dusky  little  urchin  leading  Percy  Clifford's 
pony,  was  the  eldest  hope ;  let  us  trust  my  faithful  Lucy, 
who  had  the  honor  of  being  Archey's  better  half,  while 
teaching  her  offspring  the  virtues  of  their  sire,  will  also 
warn  them  against  the  evils  of  eaves-dropping. 

Aunt  Kate  was  now  with  us,  and  also  in  close  mourning 
— for  dear  good  Uncle  Dunbar  had  been  called  away  a 
year  before  my  father,  and  Elgin  was  shut  up,  as  aunty 
could  not  remain  there  alone,  and  the  Clares  were  abroad. 
She  sat  in  the  place  occupied  by  Rachel  Thorn  at  the 
opening  of  this  story,  looking  placid,  yet  older  and  sadder 
than  when  first  introduced  to  the  reader — even  her  cap 
had  settled  down  now,  for  it  was  of  white  crape,  and  too 
close  in  its  pattern  to  fly  backwards  as  formerly.  The  old 
lady's  chief  happiness  was  in  Pearl  and  her  children,  for 
whom  she  was  at  present  knitting  soft  white  stockings,  in 
anticipation  of  their  return  the  following  autumn.  She 
was  still  devoted  to  Victor  and  Eva,  but  almost  despaired 


AGAIN    AT    WOODBURN.  347 

of  seeing  them  sometimes,  or  the  lovely  little  daughter 
regarding  whom  they  wrote  such  glowing  accounts ;  for 
though  their  nominal  home  was  in  New  York,  yet,  pre 
ferring  Europe,  they  had  been  abroad  now  for  two  years. 
Though  generally  regular  in  writing  to  Aunt  Kate,  many 
months  had  elapsed  lately  without  her  receiving  a  letter, 
which  caused  her  kind  anxious  heart  much  pain,  and  she 
often  expressed  herself  as  very  uneasy  about  the  wan 
derers.  Ethel  and  Mr.  Clifford  had  been  summoned  to 
come  over  when  our  beloved  father's  health  commenced 
failing,  and  fortunately  arrived  two  months  before  his 
death. 

"Tarrage  tummin,  mamma,"  lisped  little  Amy,  as  she 
toddled  up  to  the  door,  having  left  old  Bang  enveloped  in 
garlands  to  run  out  where  her  father  sto*od  for  more 
flowers,  "tummin  now,  most  fru  de  front  date." 

And  she  pointed  with  her  chubby  little  finger  in  the  di 
rection  indicated,  where,  sure  enough,  we  saw  a  close  car 
riage  rolling  up  towards  the  house,  and  my  mind  involun 
tarily  flew  back  to  that  wretched,  never-to-be-forgotten 
time,  when  Archey  rushed  in  to  announce  the  coming  of 
Basil  Thorn's  freight  of  vengeance  to  Woodburn.  There 
was  but  a  moment,  however,  to  indulge  this  gloomy  re 
trospect,  for  the  carriage  soon  drew  up  before  the  door, 
and  our  astonishment  may  be  better  imagined  than  de 
scribed,  when  Clarence  Morton  sprang  out,  holding  in  his 
arms  a  frail,  fair,  golden-haired  girl,  about  four  years  of 


348  WOODBURN. 

age,  who  clung  to  him  nervously,  and  hid  her  face  con 
fidingly  upon  his  shoulder. 

After  his  return  from  that  journey  to  the  East,  under 
taken  so  reluctantly,  Clarence — unaware,  doubtless,  of  the 
tender  manner  in  which  a  certain  spiteful  young  lady  had 
preserved  that  parting  rose-bud — went  off  to  India,  and 
engaged  in  business  there.  We  corresponded  occasionally, 
as  friends — for  he  proudly  refrained  from  alluding  to  a 
subject,  once  forbidden,  and  from  which  the  interdict  had 
had  never  been  removed,  neither  had  he  been  in  the  slight 
est  degree  encouraged  to  plead  for  its  removal.  We  were 
equally  proud,  and  I  liked  him  all  the  better  for  meeting 
my  haughty  spirit  as  it  deserved  to  be  met,  while  I  some 
times  found  myself  wondering  how  the  male  species,  under 
such  circumstances,  could  be  so  determined  in  their  obsti 
nacy.  Unreasonable  girl ! 

His  letters  were  eagerly  watched  for,  and  as  a  long  time 
had  elapsed  since  my  heart  was  gladdened  by  one  of  these 
foreign  missives,  I  feared,  perchance,  some  evil  had  be 
fallen  my  far-off  friend,  and  never  realized  the  fullness  of 
this  anxiety  until  it  was  suddenly  relieved,  and  I  found 
myself  again  in  his  presence  after  a  separation  of  years. 

His  story  was  soon  told,  and  sad  enough  we  found  it. 
Victor  and  Eva,  being  apprized  of  his  intention  to  leave 
India  at  a  certain  time,  made  their  arrangements  to  quit 
Germany,  where  they  had  been  for  several  months,  and 
meet  him  in  England,  from  whence  they  would  all  return  to 


AGAIN   AT   WOODBUKN,  349 

America  forthwith.  But  alas  for  human  foresight !  They 
met  with  unavoidable  detention  at  a  small  town  in  Ger 
many,  where — unknown  to  them— a  deadly  fever  had  been 
raging,  by  which,  soon  after  their  arrival,  Victor  was 
stricken  down,  and  became  so  alarmingly  ill  that  Eva 
wrote  a  frantic  letter  to  her  brother  in  England,  imploring 
him  to  hurry  on  at  once  and  join  them. 

Two  weeks  elapsed  ere  the  letter  was  received,  and 
though  Clarence  lost  no  time  in  seeking  his  beloved  sister, 
full  of  fear,  yet  hoping  for  the  best,  he  found  her  a  widow 
raving  in  delirium.  For  awhile  he  trusted  it  might  be  the 
result  of  grief  and  unceasing  watching  :  but  ah  !  too  soon 
were  there  unmistakable  signs  of  the  same  fearful  malady, 
whose  malignity  had  stricken  down  her  idolized  husband, 
and  in  mercy  smote  her  also.  That  fond  brother  could  not 
stay  the  destroyer's  hand ;  and  suddenly,  in  the  freshness 
and  vigor  of  youth,  were  these  two  loving  ones  cut  off  to 
gether,  leaving  their  little  Eva  doubly  an  orphan.  I  say 
the  blow  was  dealt  in  mercy  to  that  mourning  widow,  Eva 
.Dunbar's  love  for  her  husband  being  of  that  absorbing 
kind  which  cannot  brook  the  loss  of  its  idol,  and  earth 
without  Victor  to  her  would  have  been  a  desert — life  a 
blank. 

She  loved  her  child  for  it  was  his ;  but  maternal  affection 
was  secondary  to  that  one  overmastering  passion,  and  the 
little  Eva  could  not  have  consoled  such  crushing  grief,  or 
revived,  by  her  dependent,  clinging  love,  one  germ  of  hope 


350  WOODBURN. 

* 

in  her  mother's  wretched  heart,  had  she  lived  on  despairing 
after  that  withering  blow. 

• 

Clarence  Morton's  mother  was  dead,  and  having  no  near 
female  relation  to  whose  care  he  was  willing  to  confide  the 
child,  knowing  at  the  same  time  Aunt  Kate's  devotion  to 
Victor,  he  at  once  determined  that  she  should  take  charge, 
for  him,  of  little  Eva,  while  his  by  adoption  she  was  and 
must  ever  be. 

Victor  Dunbar's  child !  I  could  not  realize  it !  For 
we  had  never  met  since  he  left  Elgin  after  his  mad  attack 
on  Cecil  Clare.  And  he  was  dead  !  I  should  never  see 
him  again — the  idol  of  my  early  girlhood — yet  only 
remembered  now  with  the  fond,  affectionate  regret  of  a 
sister. 

The  fair  wee  stranger  was  soon  at  home  with  Percy  and 
Amy  as  playmates,  and  such  a  winning  being  did  she  prove, 
we  all  put  up  petitions  to  be  the  keeper  of  so  lovely  a 
charge ;  but  Aunt  Kate  contended  in  a  very  determined 
manner  that  she  would  never  resign  the  care  of  her  darling 
Victor's  baby  to  any  one  save  Clarence  Morton's  wife. 

Thus  it  was  that  matters  stood  when  an  answer  came 
from  Ralph  to  a  letter  in  which  I  had  strongly  urged  him 
to  purchase  Woodburn.  It  belonged  to  me.  I  could  not 
live  there  alone,  and  such  was  my  attachment  for  the  dear 
old  place  that  spite  Mr.  Clifford's  and  Ethel's  earnest  desire 
to  have  me  go  back  with  them  and  live  at  Clifton,  I  could 
not  make  up  my  mind  to  let  the  home  of  my  childhood 


AGAIN   AT   WOODBURN.  351 

pass  into  stranger  hands,  which  must  have  been  the  case 
had  I  left  it  permanently — and  hence  my  desire  that  Ralph 
should  be  the  purchaser,  for  then  I  might  remain  there  at 
least  part  of  the  time. 

My  brother's  letter  was  full  of  affection,  wishing  he 
could  buy  Woodburn,  but  it  was  impossible,  as.  his  wife 
would  be  miserable  away  from  her  family  and  friends,  and 
urging  me,  if  determined  to  be  an  old  maid, — for  I  was 
twenty-five — by  all  means  to  invite  some  still  more  anti 
quated  spinster — Aunt  Kate  for  instance,  or  Miss  Tabitha 
Tipps,  if  anxious  to  cultivate  gossip  in  my  old  age — to 
come  and  dwell  there  with  me  in  peaceful,  dignified  retire 
ment.  He  thought  the  sweet,  balmy  atmosphere  of  Wood- 
burn  would  improve  Miss  Tabitha's  temper.  But — -joking 
aside — he  hoped  I  would  not  sell  the  old  place ;  better 
rent  for  awhile  (if  anxious  to  go  abroad)  or  leave  it  in 
charge  of  Michael  McAlpine,  for  there  was  a  possibility 
yet  of  my  marrying — more  wonderful  things  than  that  had 
happened.  Spinsters  more  venerable  than  myself  had 
been  known  to  commit  similar  indiscretions,  etc.,  etc. 

It  was  like  Ralph — so  completely  in  his  merry,  rattle-te- 
bang  style,  that  spite  our  sadness,  it  brought  such  pleasant 
memories  of  our  dear  light-hearted  brother  that  we  were 
cheered  and  amused  by  this  missive  so  full  of  the  dash  and 
fun  with  which  he  used  to  keep  the  house  alive  in  by-gone 
days — the  morning  hours  of  our  fair,  unclouded  youth. 
Then  half  in  laughter,  half  in  tears,  I  told  Aunt  Kate  she 


352  WOODBURN. 

must  stay  with  me,  for  Pearl  had  husband  and  children 
while  I  felt  all  alone.  And  so  at  last  it  was  arranged  that 
we  should  keep  old  maids'  hall  together  at  Woodburn. 

Poor,  confiding  old  lady !  The  next  chapter  will  disclose 
how  faithless  I  proved  to  this  compact — with  what  ruthless 
ingratitude  I  repaid  her  unselfish  devotion  ! 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

In  vain  we  battle  with  our  fate, 

To  alter  its  decree 
That  might  have  changed  it,  comes  too  late, 

"What  G-od  ordains  will  be. 

WEEKS  elapsed,  and  still  Clarence  Morton  lingered  at 
Woodburn.  Nor  was  this  to  be  wondered  at  so  long  as  my 
brother-in-law  remained,  of  whom  he  was  very  fond.  Oh ! 
Lenox  Clifford,  I  wonder  if  you  entertain  a  full'apprecia- 
tion  of  this  disinterested  friendship  ?  Little  Eva  was  much 
attached  to  me,  for  children  are  easily  won  by  kindness, 
and  I  petted  her  even  more  than  Ethel's  babies.  A  poor 
little  orphan  child  !  she  needed  all  the  affection  and  tender 
ness  we  had  to  spare. 

One  sweet  evening  in  June — the  very  anniversary  of 
that  fragrant  ride  through  a  certain  magnolia  grove  ten 
years  before — I  was  standing  with  Eva  in  the  conservatory, 
beneath  the  same  date-palm  against  which  my  fan  had  been 
shivered  on  Ethel's  wedding  night,  when  the  amiability  of 


354  WOODBUEN. 

my  mood  was  not  increased  by  the  intelligence  conveyed 
to  me  most  unsuspectingly  by  Clarence  Morton. 

There  were  scarlet  geraniums  blooming  on  a  shelf  far 
above  our  heads  which  Eva  wanted — how  human  it  is, 
even  from  infancy,  to  covet  things  beyond  our  reach — and 
begged  me  to  get  them  for  her.  So,  catching  up  the  child, 
I  stepped  on  to  the  lowest  shelf  and  held  her  towards  the 
flowers,  saying : 

"  There,  now  cousin  Amy's  baby  can  get  them'  herself." 

"  Me  ove  tussey  Amy,  but  me  is  Uncy  Tarance's  baby  ; 
he  tey  me  shan't  be  anybody's  baby  but  his,"  and  the 
little  witch  laughed  as  I  snatched  her  back  and  said  : 

11  But  won't  you  be  Amy's  baby  if  she  gives  you  such 
pretty  flowers  and  loves  you  so?  Then  suppose  I  won't 
let  you  have  them  ?" 

"  Uncy  Tarance  oves  me  too,  and  he  divs  me  every  cing 
I  want,  and  me  tan't  help  it  if  oo  won't  div  me  de  red 
fowers,  for  me  promised  to  be  his  ittie  Eva  always  ;  but, 
peasey,  tussey  Amy,  let  me  dit  de  pitty  red  sings,"  and 
she  kissed  me  coaxingly. 

"  You  shall  have  them,  my  dainty  bird.  Amy  loves 
you  dearly,  if  you  won't  be  her  baby,"  I  replied,  tossing 
the  child  up  again  towards  those  scarlet  clusters,  when  a 
full  low  voice  whispered  in  my  ear — 

"  She  shall  be  yours  too,  Amy,  if  you  will  it  so.  Say, 
tell  me,  shall  I  have  two  treasures  instead  of  one  ?  For 
nine  years  have  I  loved  you,  and  something  less  cold  in 


CONCLUSION.  355 

your  manner  of  late  rekindles  a  ray  of  the  hope  quenched 
out  so  long  ago.     Say,  shall  Eva  be  our  baby  ?" 

I  almost  dropped  the  child  when  first  he  spoke;  for, 
believing  myself  alone  with  her,  his  voice  startled  me.  In 
a  moment  or  two  she  had  plucked  the  geraniums,  and  put 
ting  her  down  with  cheeks  almost  as  deeply  flushed  as 
those  scarlet  blossoms  I  said  : 

"  There,  deary,  run  and  show  them  to  Aunty  Kate." 
She  toddled  off  laughing,  and  looking  back  at  us  said  : 

"  Uncy  Tarance,  tussey  Amy  tied  to  make  me  her 
baby,  but  I  toud'nt  do  dat,"  and  the  wee  fairy  disappeared. 
Then,  while  I  stood  bewildered,  overpowered  by  a  new, 
delicious  sense  of  happiness,  my  head  was  drawn  down 
gently  to  its  own  true  resting  place,  as  he  whispered  again 
in  that  rich,  deep  voice — 

"  Nine  years  ! — yet  it  was  worth  waiting  so  long,  dar 
ling,  for  such  a  wife  !" 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  Woodburn  was  not  sold ; 
neither  did  it  become  an  abiding  place  for  old  maids — 
though  Aunt  Kate,  more  faithful  to  her  agreement  than  I 
had  been  to  mine,  spent  half  her  time  only  at  Elgin  with 
the  Clares,  giving  us  the  other  half,  always  maintaining  a 
jealous  and  special  care  over  the  child  she  never  did  en 
tirely  resign  even  to  Clarence  Morton's  wife. 

Years  have  gone  by  since  then.  There  are  bright  young 
faces  lighting  up  our  home — gay,  glad  young  voices  echoing 
through  the  groves  and  garden  of  Woodburn.  Loving  and 


356  WOODBURN. 

united,  strangers  would  not  think  that  the  eldest  and  fairest 
of  that  fair  band  is  our  adopted  daughter,  our  own  Eva 
Dunbar. 

I  hear  her  sweet  voice  now  singing  to  my  other  children 
out  in  the  jasmine  bower,  for  it  is  summer — and  even  as  I 
write,  the  spicy  breath  of  those  old  box  borders  comes 
drifting  through  the  casement,  the  same  I  loved  so  as  a 
joyous  child,  a  dreaming  girl,  giving  forth  ever,  beneath 
sunshine  or  rime,  the  same  aromatic,  evergreen  odor — a 
fragrance  fresh,  pure  and  unchanging — meet  emblem  of 
that  immortal  hope  which  alone  has  power  to  render  the 
fruition  of  our  earthly  joy  complete. 


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